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heliotropehotch · 4 years ago

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scars - a.h. x gn!reader

Request by @moonstuffsteve :

a/n: scars are beautiful - it's a testament that you've survived what the worlds thrown at you, and that you're still breathing. the endings has a bit too much cheese but i still like it

cw: scars, stabbing, surgery, hospital, self consciousness

author: abby<3

words: 1120

It wasn’t supposed to happen.

Morgan was the one who was supposed to go to the unsub’s last killing location, he was the one who was intended to gather any final clues. Instead, he was needed elsewhere, sending Y/N into the trap the team had no clue was planted. The rest of the team was set to arrive shortly.

Now, however, their body laid on the ground writhing in pain at the knife wound, Aaron’s hands pressed into the large cut on their thigh. The slice on their shoulder wasn’t as bad, JJ’s smaller hands pressing firmly over it. His methods with his victims are almost compulsive, Reid had said just hours before. If he doesn’t cut in an exact way, he won’t be able to do anything else until he does it right. And he hadn’t done the last victim right.

He wasn’t supposed to be back at the crime scene, they hadn’t profiled that. Later the team would realize that this was his first mistake, he didn’t know what went wrong, but he knew it felt off. Y/N, his victimology, his type, walking into the secluded area of the forest alone was a free kill, a do-over.

The gash was deep and long, searing pain shooting from their thigh with every movement. They were losing blood, and fast. “Morgan!” someone shouted, they thought it was Aaron. “Get here now!”

Y/N felt the pressure on their thigh shift, a gasp retching through their lungs. “Y/N, can you hear me?”

Their face was wet with tears as a bloodied hand grasped their own. “Aaron-”

“Shhh, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” his words were firm but his voice shook in his throat. “EMT is almost here, okay, but we’ve gotta try to stop the bleeding.” They vaguely saw him remove his belt from his waist before somehow more pain flared up. They vaguely heard screaming, shouting that sounded like their voice. “Shh, sweetheart,” he cooed again, one hand on theirs, one combing through their hair. “It’s over, okay?”

“I’m so tired, Aaron,” their grip on his hand was weakening.

“I know, baby, but you have to stay awake. Can you do that?” Black dots started spotting their vision, eyelids fluttering closed with Aaron’s voice becoming muffled as they slipped into unconsciousness.

~~~~~~~~

The steady beeping of their own heart rate is what woke them. Their eyes scrunched before opening, the harsh lights too blinding to wake up to after a slumber. For the most part, the room was silent, save for the whirl of the machines, and the deep breathing of someone else in the room.

Y/N recognized the weight that sat on their hand, the intertwining of rough fingers against theirs. Their gaze fell on their husband, crouched uncomfortably in the chair he had pulled to their bed.

They squeezed, relishing in the firmness of the touch to his. He hummed, his own eyes adjusting to the light. His gaze shifted to their form, back straightening at their open eyes. A crooked smile of relief flooded his features.

“You’re awake,” he spoke softly. “Do you need some water?”

They nodded, adjusting against the mattress with a slight groan. His eyes shot to theirs, a non-verbal warning to be careful. The water felt nice sliding down their throat, a relief to any of the pain felt nice.

“How bad is it?” Now his gaze had shifted away. “Aaron?”

“They had to do surgery to repair some of the muscles in your thigh,” he sighed, placing a gentle hand over the bandage. “It’ll take some time to heal, and then you’ll need some physical therapy-” a groan interrupted him “-but then you should be fine.”

“And just how long will I be out of the field?”

“At least three months,” an exasperated noise left their mouth. “It could be more depending on how you heal.”

Y/N looked away from their husband, unshed frustration clouding in their eyes. His hand squeezed theirs again, grounding them in the physical realm. “Y/N-” his other hand went to their cheek. “You’re alive and here. That’s all that matters now.”

~~~~~~~

“How are you feeling?” He grunted, letting his tired body finally collapse against the mattress once it was safely under the blankets. Y/N huffs out a laugh in the bathroom, rinsing their toothbrush in the sink.

“You know it’s been two months, right?” They adjusted the traps of their tank top to cover the scar on their shoulder. His chuckle vibrated on the other side of the wall.

“I know-”

“And you know that my trainer says I’m healing a lot quicker than normal.”

“Y/N, I just wanna know how your pain is doing.” They stood next to the bed next, body shifting from foot to foot, palm laying gently over the scar on their thigh. His gaze drifted to it, a pointed stare in their direction.

“I’m fine, barely feel anything.” They moved their body under the covers, sliding their form up to his.

“Honey.”

“I don’t like to look at them, okay?” Their fingers flexed against the skin of his chest. “I don’t want- I don’t need to just keep being reminded of what happened is all.”

His arm wrapped around their waist pulling them closer to his chest. He didn’t say anything just yet, pressing his lips to their forehead.

“How did you deal?” Their fingers tracing over the pale lines that littered his chest. His voice vibrated under their cheek. “Hm?”

“How did you deal with them just existing there?” His heartbeat under his chest was soothing, they pressed a kiss to the scar above his heart before they adjusted their head to look up at his face. “How did you learn to stop hating them?”

“Well,” he grunted softly, pulling their body further to his, if possible. “I have someone, someone like you, who doesn’t see them for the awful memory or the imperfection that they bring. I have someone who loves them all the time for me, even when I think they’re the ugliest things in the world.”

He turned them over to lay more on their back, hands trailing up their waist to their cheek. He pressed a soft kiss to their lips, a beat of peace and love passing between them. “You’re alive. That’s what the scars mean. What happened happened, but you’re healing from it. In time, you’ll begin to see them the way I see them- a grateful symbol that you’re still here, in this bed, with me.”

They smiled as he pressed his own delicate kiss into the pink scar on their shoulder, and Y/N began to see them the way he did. A sign of survival.

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #hotch x gn!reader #criminal minds #cm #aaron hotchner request

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fairlyspnfanfic · 4 years ago

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The Ties That Bind Us - Part Six

Summary: When your past comes back to haunt you, who will prevail? Hunting had been your life since your were 4 years old. The monsters that started you on that path were resurfacing, and you knew what you had to do. But nothing is ever truly secret, and nothing is ever that cut and dry with the Winchester’s in tow.

A/N: This is a new one that is coming from a few requests. I’m not going to post the actual requests because…well because it would spoil the story line and I’m pretty into this one.

Words: 2167

Warnings: Trauma, medical terminology, stress, hospital waiting room, tears, anesthesia

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR PART FIVE

Dean stood alone in the washroom; the mortar full of ingredients sitting scorched on the floor. He swept his hands through his hair and walked over to the sink, quickly grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser and beginning to work on cleaning up the paint from the trap on the floor. It took mere moments, but it felt like an eternity. While he was tossing the remnants of his spell into the trash bin, a loud insistent knock was again rapping at the door.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “Keep your shirt on.”

“Dean!” Sam was yelling outside the door, continuing to pound on the cheap, grey wood.

Shit, Dean thought to himself as he rushed to finish the rest of his cleanup. Once the last of the traces of his work had been disposed of, he yanked the door open and breezed past his brother wordlessly.

“What the hell, Dean?” Sam’s indignant voice trailed behind him. “What did you do?”

The accusation in his words was not unfounded, but still, it left Dean enraged. “What are you talking about, Sam?” Dean’s voice was sharp and dismissive as he spat the words at him, his face scrunched up into a defensive glare.

The youngest Winchester caught up with him within a few strides as he reached out and grabbed Dean’s shoulder, forcing Dean to turn around and face him.

“Don’t do that,” Sam pleaded. “Just don’t.”

“What, a guy can’t take a dump?”

Sam glared at his brother, leaving the silence between them thick and expectant.

“Come on Sam, we have to get back in there. Y/N’s depending on us.”

Sam nodded his head, disappointment evident in his stance, as they both walked back towards the waiting room.

Immediately, Dean began pacing between the aisles of seats, his long legs bowing out as he did so. He was listless and his hands alternated between running through his hair and yanking on his own neck in a vain attempt to relax the beyond strained muscles.

The doors to the surgical hallway flew open and the same doctor that had spoken with them before came rushing towards them, her eyes bulged out in surprise as she locked onto the boys.

“Doc,” Dean’s voice was full of anguish as he strode up to her, meeting her just outside the rows of seats. He remained silent, waiting for the update she undoubtedly was there to give him.

"Tell me she’s alright,” Sam whispered, walking up next to Dean. The doctor remained silent. Dean let out a sigh, lowering his head over his crossed arms. He was all stress, panic and anxiety in human form.

The doctor opened her mouth to start speaking but came up empty as her mouth closed again. After several false starts without explanation, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“We’re going to need some sort of words here, doc.” Dean’s jovial voice was hiding his tension and impatience, but he remained unsatisfied as the woman continued her silence.

“She’s not,” Dean began, unwilling to finish the sentence. “No,” he stuttered. “No, she can’t be. She’s not gone. Tell me she’s not gone.”

Sam laid a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder and stepped in front of him. “Dean, it’s okay.” He sniffed, unable to control the tears forming in his eyes as they began to fall.

“No,” Dean began muttering to himself, his eyes wide and fixated on the floor. “No, she said...she was supposed to fix it. We had a deal.” His words strung together haphazardly. Dean could hear his own heart pounding faster and faster. “No,” he whispered.

I opened my eyes violently; the dryness of them sending pain and discomfort through me. I could feel my head pounding, but the pressure in my chest overrode all of it. As much as I tried, I couldn’t take a breath. My lungs felt as if they were solid bricks, useless in their emptiness. I struggled against whatever was blocking them, attempting to take gasp after gasp of fresh air that wouldn’t come. All I could feel was pain. My pounding head, aching eyes, useless lungs, and beyond bruised body fought against every survival instinct I had.

“Oh my God,” I heard a man’s voice yell out. I lifted my hands to my face and began clawing at the foreign objects that seemed stuck inside of my mouth, arms and chest.

“No, no, no!” Panicked voices surrounded me as blurred shadows began rushing around me, poking and prodding me at every juncture, as though my threshold for pain was exponentially larger than it actually was.

“Calm down, Y/N.” A soothing voice rang in my ear. “We need to close you up now,” she sang. “But to do that, you have to sleep.”

I attempted to speak, wanting nothing more than to scream at the people around me, to tell them no, to make the torment stop, but words were beyond my reach. “The machines are breathing for you, Y/N. Don’t fight them. A little more rest and you can wake back up. But for now,” she crooned. “You need to sleep.”

I watched her fingers grabbing at a tube as another set of hands gave her a vial which she quickly depressed into the tubing between her fingers. Within seconds, my eyelids drooped, and my head became heavy, my vision fuzzier than before. And before I could protest, I had drifted into a dreamless, nightmarish sleep.

The panic in Dean’s chest had begun to consume him as it seemed like the very ground beneath him had given way. He sank to his knees, kneeling on the floor with his head cradled between his hands. His cheeks were covered in the salty streaks of his own tears as he took deep breaths, attempting to find some hint that this was all an awful dream.

Sam moved in front of him, his legs blocking Dean from view. The doctor stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes, as if she were in shock.

“You need to say the words, Doc.” Sam crossed his arms, swallowing the lump in his throat as the tears that his eyelids had been successfully keeping at bay finally fell. “I need to hear the words, or I won’t believe it.” He stressed each word, holding on to hope that all of their assumptions were wrong.

He watched as the doctor finally raised her line of sight to meet his eyes and shook her head slightly as if bringing herself back to the present. “She’s awake,” she said.

Sam’s eyes lurched open as his arms fell to his sides. “What?”

The doctor shook her head again, confusion clearing as she did so. “She woke up. During surgery. She woke up momentarily.” Her explanation did little to settle the worry that laid heavy throughout the room. “We had to sedate her, but she did wake up for a moment.”

Sam lifted his hand and pulled it down his face, grasping his chin as he did so. “What does that mean?” His question came out much calmer than he felt.

“It’s a good sign,” the doctor began. “Typically, with this kind of trauma, there wouldn’t be more than a ten percent chance of survival.” Her words did little to provide any comfort. “But we’ve repaired the damage and she’s in the recovery room now. It’s going to take a while for her to wake up since we had to sedate her again, but it’s a good sign.”

Sam took a deep breath, reaching down behind him to grab Dean’s arm. He pulled him up and forced him to stand. “Dean,” he said, smacking his hand against his brother’s chest and pointing towards the doctor.

Dean looked up hesitantly as he made eye contact with the doctor again. “She’s in the recovery room,” she explained again. “It’ll be a couple of hours before she’ll be in her own room, but once she is, you’re welcome to see her.”

“Her body, you mean.” Dean’s words were painted with defeat.

“No, Dean.” Sam turned around, looking at his brother pointedly. “She’s alive.” Dean’s eyes flicked over to his brother’s as he let out a breath, allowing more tears to fall down his cheeks.

My eyelids were so heavy. Like steel doors that had been locked shut, and I was powerless to move them. But I could feel the moisture of my own tears leaking through them as they dripped down my cheeks and across my lips. All I could feel was pain. The gravel in my chest that seemed to expand with each involuntary breath that I hadn’t initiated. The sharp, shooting pain that was radiating out from my back. The pounding in my head that felt as though my temples were trapped in a vice that was constantly being tightened. It was unreal and I didn’t think I could, or that I’d want, to cope with it.

Every part of me was scorching. That same sort of burning feeling that only seemed to happen when you were too cold, freezing from the inside out. I attempted to move, urging my knees to bend and scoot me away from the frozen fire that felt as though it were seconds away from consuming me. My lazy, thick voice whined into the emptiness as I urged myself to plead for help. The only sound that came out was muffled and nonsensical.

But within seconds, I felt warm fingers snaking themselves around my hand, intertwining my fingers with them. The warmth and comfort that originated there began to spread, and I poured all of my strength into flexing my fingers and squeezing the hand of my hero that had alleviated some of my agony.

“Mom?” My voice was almost unrecognizable. As though I was speaking through a thick layer of fabric that had been woven over my voice box.

“Shhh,” a soothing voice rang out as another hand swept across my forehead. “You’re going to be just fine, Y/N.” I knew that voice. I would recognize it even if I were dead. And yet, I couldn’t identify it for the life of me.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Two lips pressed themselves gently to my forehead, leaving an aura of safety and respite from my aching body.

“Dad?” I questioned.

“Y/N?” Another voice called out to me, but from the other side of the room. “We’re here, Y/N. Sam and Dean,” it answered me. “We’re right here.”

I pursed my eyebrows together, still unable to open my eyes. Sam and Dean were there. I knew that their presence meant I was safe. That the terror of not knowing where I was or why everything hurt so much should ebb away. But every part of me wanted to scream at them. To push them away for pulling me back from the perfect peace I had found with my parents. I could still hear the waves crashing on the beach and remember the feel of my mother’s hand in mine. But all the contentment and ease had gone and been replaced with suffering.

“Hey, hey relax Y/N. It’s okay.” Dean’s voice attempted to soothe me as he pushed my hair behind my ear, gently cradling my face.

“No,” I murmured. “I want to go back.” My words came out as whispers, but their intent was sincere.

Dean relaxed his grip on my hand. “What?” he asked. But no more words were able to push through my lips. The tears that had been quietly dripping slowly from my eyes now became a deluge as my eyes and chest were wracked with sobs. The pain that shot through me with each violent spasm was disorienting and overwhelming, but the tears wouldn’t stop, and my heaving breaths were undeterred.

My fingers dug into Dean’s hand, desperate to keep him close to me as I pulled him towards the bed. I was able to curl my legs up into myself, ignoring the pain shooting through my abdomen as I did so, as I pulled Dean’s hand ever closer to me.

“Hey, hey, hey,” his voice rang out like velvet. “I’m here,” he said as I felt the bed depress next to me as his legs pressed against mine. His arm wrapped around my shoulders as he slowly released my hand, holding me close to him and pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

The sobs that had sped through me began to calm as I buried my face into his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of evergreen and freshly cut wood.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his arms keeping me enveloped into him.

Deep breath after deep breath of his intoxicating musk had calmed my tears and slowed my breathing back to normal. The sharp stabbing pain had localized and no longer radiated out to every molecule of my being. Within minutes, I drifted off, terrified of any dream that I may have that could never compare to where I had just been.

To be continued….

Part Seven

Taglist (Tag requests are open):

@vicmc624 @waywardprincesa @heyyy-hey-babyyy @carissime72 @deans-baby-momma @formulafun @woodworthti666 @yetanotherreader @crashlyrose @hobby27 @gabby913 @jxackles @polina-93 @supernaturaladdictsblog @fandomoverdose666 @deans-baby-momma @deanwanddamons @tazzi-baby @acertainhero @lilulo-12

(Desperate attempt to get my faves to notice me) @thinkinghardhardlythinking @smol-and-grumpy @wonder-cole-reads @watermelonlipstick @that-one-gay-girl @waywardbaby

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the-silentium · 3 years ago

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Trust

Masterlist

Pairing: No one so far, but it’s coming. Do you guys have preferences? I’m open to suggestions.

Words: 4821 words

Warnings: Slight bood, cursing.

It took a week before Layla finally gave in to Wrecker's pleas for an arm-wrestling round. During that week, he asked her a grand total of 9 times "is now a good time for a game?" In the end, even Kai was urging her to accept the request. He argued that she needed some mood lifter after the last three days passed in the battlefield and that arm wrestling was a way as good as any other. Passing time with friends gives you serotonin. God knows you've been lacking that hormone for a while, he said.

Under Wrecker's pleading gaze and Kai's encouraging one, Layla accepted his offer and followed him outside. They were waiting for new orders in the comfort of Corellia's temperate forest. The trees offered a nice cover, their bushy foliage offering plenty of shade in the sunny day.

Without his armor on, Wrecker looked more like a huggable human being than a killing machine. Sure, the walls of muscles enveloping his body could be intimidating and not perceived as “hug material” but with that carefree smile usually hidden under a beast-like helmet and the tooka doll that helped him through the bad days, Layla would bet her life that this guy gave the best embrace out of the group.

“Ready to show Tech that I’m stronger than you?” Wrecker teasingly inquired. One of his hands took hold of her shoulder to shake her slightly.

She laughed. So that’s what this was all about. “He really said that I was stronger than you?” She forced her voice to be as neutral as possible, so her teammate would not take offense of her amusement.

“Yeah! He said because your armor is heavier, you have to be stronger but I told him that he was wrong because you’re smaller!”

Layla stopped to think for a few seconds. She didn’t know the true extent of Wrecker’s strength and was not about to underestimate him. She heard how he once lifted a LAAT gunship like it was nothing. He represented a challenge that she happily wanted to try and conquer, beat him in his game. She didn’t know after all if her enhancements would be enough to beat the man and wanted to find out. He had all his chances against her, who never even tried lifting a gunship.

The problem was in the possibility that she won, would he resent her? Would it destroy the easy relationship they had right now? If she was totally honest, this man with his bright personality had made it a hundred times easier for her to adapt within the team. He was the first one who made her regret demanding a transfer because she knew herself and knew she would get attached despite her best efforts. In the week and a half she spent with them, he managed to make the wait until the teleportation cube was repaired slightly better, which Layla knew would hit her hard if she was to lose it.

Her only possibility for the upcoming match was to put effort in the game but make it so if she was the one winning, she would ultimately lose. Like this, she could gauge his strength, have a nice time, secure what she could call a friendship and not insult him by not putting effort into it. Satisfied with her plan, Layla joined the other side of a rock Wrecker was currently analyzing.

“You know that I’m taller than you by two inches, right?” She teased him back.

“Yeah but height is not everything. What you need is muscles.” He winked and playfully flexed his biceps to make a show of the moving strength beneath his skin.

She hummed in response, keeping to herself how her muscular mass was deeply misleading since the density of each of her muscles have been increased. Somehow Tech must have come to that conclusion too since his bet apparently was on her.

“Is this okay with you?” Wrecker asked, pointing at the large rock between the two of them. It was high enough that they could both kneel and the table would reach the top of their abdomen and wide enough so both their elbows could rest on the surface.

With a nod, Layla kneeled on the grass on her side of the improvised table. Apparently, the Sergeant had forbidden arm-wrestling matches inside the ship for a reason Layla had yet to discover. She removed her right shoulder pad, along with her forearm protection and gauntlet to meet Wrecker’s physical state as he stayed in his blacks for the day.

As she offered her right hand to Wrecker, Kai’s voice rang through her helmet, still firmly latched around her head. “You have spectators.” He informed her.

True to his words, the Spartan noticed the rest of the team looking at them from the ship’s entrance; Tech at the bottom of the stairs and typing away on his datapad, most likely taking notes of the game, the Sergeant right beside him and Crosshair lurking at the top.

“Guess we’ll have to put up a good show.” She whispered back at his companion as she rested her elbow on the hard rock. Her right knee moved forward to gain leverage. The position wasn’t optimal seeing as their table was a rock; her hip wasn’t touching anything so she would have to do with minimal shoulder strength. Good thing was that the same situation was happening to Wrecker so they had the same handicap.

Once everyone was set up and ready, Kai appeared next to her shoulder and walked down her resting arm, interrupting Wrecker before he could start counting down.

“I’ll say when to start.” He announced, his helmet under his arm.

Layla couldn’t help but notice how at ease Kai was around Wrecker. It had taken months before he could develop enough trust towards the 501st clones for him to be out in the open like that. He used to provide her information from within her helmet and she would relay them. It wasn’t fear that drove him. In the beginning, it was a simple need to keep her advantages and abilities to herself in case the Republic wasn’t what they claimed to be. Then it was his shyness that kept him tucked away.

With Wrecker though, it was as if he knew him for his whole life. His shyness was completely forgotten. The reason was painfully simple. Wrecker reminded both of them of their lost comrade.

“At ‘go’ you can start.” He said with a small grin. “Three.”

Wrecker’s grip tightened slightly.

“Two.”

Layla put her weight on her elbow.

“One.”

They both looked at each other. The challenging glint in his eyes daring her to really try and win against him ignited a spark within her and she instantly forgot that she was supposed to let him win. You’re not a Regan for nothing.

“Go.”

It was immediate. Both arms pushed against each other to force them down and claim the win. As hyper fixated on her task as she was, Layla could feel light shakes in both their muscles, the two of them putting a considerable amount of strength into the game. They both stalled in the approximate middle for what felt like minutes, both their hands descending on one side until the imminent loser would give a boost and they would return to a tie. Layla continued to give her 90%, keeping the rest for either an endurance run or until Wrecker began to tire out.

An opening appeared in a very slightly perceptible shift. Wrecker’s grip loosened for a millisecond, just enough for the Spartan to grab the opportunity and send the remaining of her strength in that last push. Don't crush his hand, she reminded herself. That would be catastrophic.

She managed to force his hand half the way down before pain exploded in her head and she fell on her back, the contact with the hard ground stealing her breath away.

Despite laying on the ground, Layla’s head was spinning and her heartbeat resonated within her skull. A breathy whine escaped her lips once she tried to take a breath in to alleviate some of the pain starting to form in her chest. It wasn’t until Wrecker appeared in her line of sight that she managed to fill her lungs and focus. The pulse she felt beating her head wasn’t the only one affecting her. Her hand was also suffering from the annoying feeling.

“Good thing you kept your helmet,” Kai said. Data appeared on her HUD, scrolling so fast that she could not distinguish the numbers. “It absorbed a majority of the impact along with your shield. Instead of a really bad black eye, you only sustained minor injuries to your nose and hand.”

With a hum to acknowledge the information provided by her AI, Layla sat up with the help of a gentle hand on her back and it wasn’t until she removed her helmet to inspect her nose that she noticed Wrecker fussing next to her with a look of pure worry in his eyes.

“You’re bleeding!” He nearly gasped. Before he could enter full-on guilt mode, Layla offered him a genuine smile with a small shrug of her shoulders. She was about to reassure him that she was fine, but was interrupted by a worried Sergeant and a hectic engineer.

“Are you okay?” The CO kneeled by his brother who looked at him with so much guilt.

“I’m fine, sir. Just a nosebleed.” She affirmed, the feeling of the wet substance tickling the skin above her lips all the way down her chin. She pinched her nose right above her nostrils to stop the bleeding. “My helmet sustained most of the damage.” She found it useful to point out when she took in the lines splitting a part of her visor.

Thankfully it didn't seem deep enough to require a change, not that she would have been able to anyway, not without changing the whole helmet for a clone model, which was inconceivable for multiple reasons. It was her own helmet or nothing.

“Nice right, Wrecker,” Layla added in hope of alleviating his heart, which wasn’t a total failure since the corner of his mouth rose slightly and his hand scratched his neck in a proud-embarrassed movement.

“You have to be checked for a concussion.” Tech who arrived shortly after the dark-haired soldier added with a shake of his head. “Wrecker’s hits can be quite damaging.”

“There's no need.” The shiny AI showed up once more. “She’s clear.”

“I’m sorry!” The apology was accentuated by a hand on the shoulder from Wrecker, the firmness of his grip nowhere near what he usually used.

“Don’t worry about it.” She told him with a pat on the arm still touching her. “I’ve had worse.” She chuckled and stopped abruptly. “What happened to the rock?”

The improvised table sat at her feet, split unevenly in half.

“Your hands slipped. Yours hit the boulder half a second before Wrecker hit you.” Tech explained with a slow-motion video of the scene playing on his datapad to prove his words. The big guy squirmed in place at the images, those of which managed to get a good chuckle out of Layla who looked at her hand and understood the shallow scrapes.

“You know, throughout my entire career, you’re the third one who managed to get me on my ass.” She revealed to him in the same teasing tone they initially started the game with. “It’s quite an accomplishment if you ask me.” After all, he was smaller than the two Covenants who managed to get her off her feet.

A genuine laugh greeted her ears, booming and loud, Wrecker to the core. “And you broke the boulder like it was nothing! That’s something for being small!”

With a mocked scoff, Layla touched her chest in facked indignation. “Please. Rocks are nothing."

It was the pain burning in her cheek that made her freeze. Her smile was so wide, the muscles beaten by the side of her helmet were pulsing under the strain. This was becoming dangerous, the easy-going relationship she had with Wrecker was nice and invigorating, making him an obstacle between her and her primary mission of returning to the UNSC to continue humanity's fight. It even went farther than that. Finally being able to talk to someone who recognized her as an equal and not as a freaky stranger that infiltrated their rank was like finally finding time to shower between missions; it was so relaxing and addictive that she never wanted it to end and she wanted more. Wrecker wasn't the only one who found a way around her defenses, the others were unconsciously crawling their way in as well, through the smallest of spaces, but at a very concerning steady pace.

Good soldiers had to follow orders. She had to go back. She had to continue her fight against the Covenant and honor her team who died in duty. Avenge them. Save enough lives that maybe, just maybe, the civilians and soldiers who died under her command would stop plaguing her dreams with their screams of pain and anger.

She knew it was selfish to hope they would leave her alone, she failed them after all, failed to accomplish her task of protecting them.

"Are you really alright?" Wrecker inquired, worry stealing all of his previous joy.

"What?" She asked, lost as to why he passed from 10 on the happy mood scale to 0 in seconds.

"You just don't look ok." He pointed out, his eyes moving to her closed fists, tight stature, and a deep frown.

"Oh. No, I'm good. Just rememberin' the other times I was thrown on my ass and those times weren't as pleasant, that's all." Layla plastered a soft smile on her face while forcing her stiff muscles to relax. If he caught the lie, Wrecker didn't seem to mind.

"Pleasant! Ha! You're gonna have to tell me those stories one day!" He said, his cheerfulness already back to its maximum.

"Will do," Layla assured him. Another lie couldn't really hurt, could it? She actively fought an urge to put her helmet back onto her head and hide her facial expression that could betray her at any moment. Spartans weren't known for their admirable social skills. They did their job, rest a bit between battles if possible, and returned to the invaded lands. Who knew what could be read on her face? She never cared to practice hiding her thoughts because she more often than not wore her helmet to hide her features. She was a soldier amongst a near-infinite sea of others. She was no one, and her face didn't matter, her gun did.

With a last cheer, Wrecker invited her to eat but returned to the ship alone upon her refusal, leaving her with the pointed stares and heavy silence of the remaining clones. With a frown, Layla cocked her head to the side.

"What's wrong, sir?" She could tell there was something bothering him. He had that look on his face, the one that shone in Major Thornton's eyes whenever she decided to improvise a quick strategy instead of following her order to the letter. Annoyance. He must have picked on the lie.

"Nothing wrong, just-"

"Rocks shouldn't be 'nothing'." Tech cut him off, a tinge of accusation mixed with confusion in his voice.

Layla was just as confused as to why the Sergeant didn't call her out on her lie as she was of the engineer's statement. "Excuse me?"

"Rocks shouldn't be 'nothing'." He repeated. "Yes, matching and even beating Wrecker's strength was a theory I had developed, but rocks… their density should concern you." He took a short pause to look between her and the broken boulder. "And your hand should have been broken in many places." Tech continued.

At this point, it seemed like he was talking more to himself than to her, even going as to take her injured hand and cautiously press at different spots to see if he could feel some shattered bones beneath the surface that the Spartan and her AI wouldn't mention or even a groan of pain.

When it was clear that he wouldn't get any of his assumptions, the Sergeant butted in.

"Have you been created based on our mutations?" He slowly asked like he couldn't believe what he was saying. "Is this why you were paired with us?"

Despite the shock of hearing that first question directed at her, Layla managed to get enough control over her brain to get the words out. "No, sir."

The silence following her answer added to the unconvinced stares of both men pushed her to elaborate.

"I've lived for 26 years now, sir. If someone is based on someone, it would be you on me, but we know I am not your DNA donor. I also am not mutated or have helped with any mutation or cloning activities, sir." It wasn't a lie this time, mutation wasn't the same thing as an enhancement. "And as to why I was paired with your team, it's really because I can't work around certain Generals, nothing else."

A deep hum accepted her explanation although the Sergeant kept looking at her for a few seconds like he was about to discover what was wrong with her. As far as she knew, he may be able to discover it. She never asked more than what Tech told her about their leader's senses, not that she wasn't curious but she felt like she didn't have the right to do so when their biggest questions remained unanswered.

After a moment, Sergeant Hunter scratched his neck and looked around, not exactly meeting her gaze when he spoke up. "Excuse us about the origin questions. We know we aren't supposed to ask."

"It's alright, sir. I get your situation."

She couldn't say with one-hundred percent certainty that she would have acted the same in his place. In her world, soldiers trusted each other without caring about their stories. Despite this, Layla had to recognize that curiosity was a strong thing and she already knew that if not her, then members of her fireteam would have bugged the newbie with questions. She wasn't mad that he was asking, at least he accepted the refusals and every answer that obviously dodged the questions.

"In this case, if I may ask-" Tech chimed in, content with her understanding attitude.

"Enough with the questions Tech. Leave her alone." Sergeant Hunter interfered, the authoritative tone of a superior exercising its power peaking through the frustration a bit.

"But Hunter-" Tech was baffled at the interruption. Maybe he hadn't understood that she was fine with a small mishap, but pushing the subject was another story.

"General's order." His brother reminded him. "Leave it." He ordered once more.

The Sergeant didn't leave before his goggled brother did, ensuring that she was unbothered for the time being. He made sure to shoot her a last apologetic glance before walking away towards the ship.

"Kai." She mumbled under her breath as she released her nose to make sure it wasn't bleeding anymore and put her Scout helmet back on. She made sure the seal was airtight and waited until his adorable face appeared on her HUD. "Run a diagnostic of the integrity of my visor. I want to know if it can still resist field trips up there."

"Already done." He beamed, always happy to predict her needs. "Only the external layer has been compromised, so the visor still has 96% of its shock capacity. Fights in high vacuum environments are still possible."

Accompanied by an audible sigh, Layla thanked her AI. So she was still able to follow her training, which was reassuring. It wasn't even possible for her to trade her bucket for a clone model; the functionalities only available within her own technology were too indispensable. The helmet was the heart of her armor, it held everything together and made everything work.

Instead of going back to the ship, Layla looked back at the forest, took in the peacefulness that radiated off its depth, and walked forward. A quick message to the Sergeant to let him know she was wandering around granted her some highly needed time alone. The birds chirped at her passage, small creatures fled as soon as they noticed her approaching while bigger ones stayed put, continuing to search for their daily meals.

The forest wasn't quite like home, but the silence was. A younger version of herself loved to climb the mountains of Reynes to find some silence, as far away as she could from the maddening hits of pickaxes on the rock, the thick dust infiltrating her lungs despite the cheap protection provided by the mining company, the taste of copper that always tricked her brain and made her think her mouth was bleeding. She hated it all. Days in, days out, all she did was hit rocks to extract metal, pushing her to flee to the mountain at every opportunity she had.

The soft sound of a stream nearby caught her attention. With confident steps, Layla reached the water ribbon that split the earth. The small clearing bathed in sunlight, offering everything needed for the colorful wildflowers to grow strong. Carefully, Layla descended the hill leading to the edge of the stream where she nearly slipped over the river pebbles.

It took less than half an hour for Layla to clean the blood coating the inside of her helmet, her face, and her chest plate. Then after cleaning the small rag of a majority of the red stains, the soldier allowed herself to recharge her batteries.

Looking down at the UNSC logo imprinted onto a corner of the cloth, Layla wondered if the war was still going on. When the cube would be repaired and she made it back to the Milky Way galaxy, would she still have a goal? If she ever made it back. It had been more than a year already and a lot could happen considering the strength of the Covenant alliance and humanity's desperation.

The biggest question yet was whether Earth was still under the radar or if the Covenants' efforts paid off in the end. Goosebumps spread all over her body at the mere thought of humanity's homeworld being discovered. The outcome would definitely be catastrophic not only for the war, but for the human race in general.

"Don't be startled, but Crosshair is walking in our general direction. He'll come out a bit further up the stream." Kai softly warned her through her comms.

The sniper merged from the line of trees bordering the brook, fully geared up, minus his precious weapon. At first glance, the man seemed to be on his way to the other side and deeper within the forest in search of who-knows-what, but changed his destination as soon as his head turned in her direction.

With a sigh, Layla returned to her initial position, seated comfortably on the grass, her legs outstretched onto the wet rocks and her gaze looking intently at the sunlight reflecting over the water.

"Did Sergeant Hunter send you to fetch me?" Layla asked as her comrade walked up to her. She forced herself to suppress a groan when he hid the sun with his body.

"No, just needed the time alone too." He confessed, his modulated voice as monotone as ever. "But he also asked that I check if you hadn't collapsed from that hit to the head."

Layla hummed. She wasn’t surprised at all, she would have made the same move if the role were reversed. "I'm fine. If it was the case, Kai would have alerted him." There was a pause when Crosshair looked down in search of what Lyla assumed to be a clean spot. "So I take it that we can enjoy this a bit more?"

"At least one hour and a half more. Tech and Wrecker were sent for a last-minute supply run."

"Oh. I should have been there to help." The words escaped her mouth as per her natural instinct to help others whether or not she really wanted to. In this case, a supply run sounded awful.

"You wouldn’t have been sent anyway. Four eyes can be relentless and his questions annoying." Crosshair grumbled.

Layla acknowledged his statement with a soft hum. He sat beside her, a bit further up the hill so his feet were not too close to the water before laying down, helmet still on. She soon followed his example, sunbathing in silence with her face bare for the sun to warm.

Despite his unfriendly demeanor, Layla found Crosshair’s company quite enjoyable. Despite the silence, Layla could feel his presence and thus, felt less alone than she did moments ago. Her body relaxed more and more by the seconds, a sense of familiarity invading her.

She listened to the water, the bugs, the wind blowing through the leaves, Crosshair’s steady breaths. She would have fallen asleep at the lack of activity around her and in her brain, had it not been of the happy screeches and splatters that resonated in the distance and were progressively approaching. The two soldiers let out a disgruntled sigh.

Heh. Sounds like Unggoys. She found herself putting her helmet back on as per a deeply rooted instinct and sat back up, unlike her fellow sniper who remained on his back.

The joyful cries faded to background noise as her heartbeat picked up. Layla blinked several times to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her, but sure enough, she saw right. Her body tensed and her hands moved towards her tactical knife. The kids, albeit significantly smaller, shared many physical similarities with the Jiralhanae, the renowned Brutes of the Covenant alliance.

Then her cozy time became a task. All her senses were on high alert, expecting aliens to ambush them any second now. Her muscles tightened and relaxed repeatedly in apprehension, warming up for the upcoming action. A faint memory of brutal savagery played in the back of her mind, suppressing Kai’s voice. The blood of countless soldiers coating the battlefield, houses destroyed from the inside out to crush the humans hidden inside, the brutes' war cries that never seemed to stop beating their ears, everything came back at once.

"Don't like kids?" Crosshair inquired, his intervention effectively cutting through the thick fog obscuring her mind.

Immediately Layla thought back to the young alien she unexpectedly saved when she first arrived. On any other day, the Captain knew she would have acted differently. Her instincts around alien species were so strong that the Jedis had decided to keep her solely around human Generals for everyone’s safety. It took some time to explain the context of the war raging into her world but they ultimately understood. Since she would rarely meet alien civilians during her missions with General Skywalker, they hadn’t thought it useful to keep her within the Jedi temple. Lucky for them, the General’s apprentice was humanoid enough that a month at her side had been sufficient for Layla to accept her as someone trustworthy.

This little girl, on the other side, Layla couldn't say for sure if she helped her because she looked nothing like a Covenant- this reason was highly doubtful since she later reacted to many other species that didn't look Covenants- or if it was the sheer distress she saw in the kid’s terrified eyes.

Soldiers were trained to help those in need. Spartans were trained to save humanity by all means necessary. Many times before, Layla came face to face with a terrified Unggoy that wanted nothing to do with the battle raging around them. Yet, she never hesitated to pull the trigger.

A foot nodged her arm, jolting her out of her reflexive thoughts.

"A bit on edge for two Barbadelan kids." Crosshair noted. He now sat, his head tilted slightly to the side in interest.

"The problem’s not that they are kids." She sighed and racked her brain for an excuse that didn’t really imply that she grew up to hate and kill whatever wasn't human. "I kind of have… trust issues with anyone outside the army. Everyone I ever knew and interacted with was military."

Since the clone army was entirely constituted of humans, her explanation was plausible. Even Kai nodded in approval.

"Trust issues…" He repeated slowly in an incredulous tone like she said something stupid. "With kids."

Layla’s gaze moved back towards the kids. She looked at them as they threw water at each other. So innocent. So fragile and manipulable. "Yeah… I've seen things…" She gritted her teeth to keep her anger at bay. "As I said, what one wouldn't do to win a war?"

She felt his gaze on her as he pondered about the meaning of her words.

#bad batch x reader #sergeant hunter x oc #wrecker x oc #tech x oc #crosshair x oc #halo #halo oc #crossover #spartan oc #op:leviathan

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stovetuna · 5 years ago

Note

Imagine Steve/Avengers walking in to Tony entertaining two soldiers in the common room and being really confused because Tony??? Despises the military??? But then find out that those two soldiers are actually from the “fun-vee” way back in IM 1 and Tony’s fitting them with prosthetics.

ahhh this has been stuck in my head for DAYS anon! I don’t necessarily agree with the assessment that Tony hates the military, per se (doing business with the military and the military industrial complex, however, and all that that toxic shit entails, definitely yes), BUT it’s such a heartbreaking/warming concept I had to run with it! I think I got it right with Air Force vs Army, but the movie was kinda vague—I’m going off of the fact that the driver said “I’m an airman,” which you would not say if you were in the Army.

and since the airmen (and woman) Tony was traveling with in the Fun-Vee are canonically deceased, I thought I’d have Tony do something…well, Extremely Tony™ to compensate…

(::whispers:: also we’re just gonna pretend that the Bucky-killed-Tony’s-parents-revelations of Cap 2/3 aren’t a thing in this vaguely alternate MCU universe. la-di-da, la-di-da…)

***

It’s not surprising to walk into the Avengers common area and see Tony Stark working on something no one can quite comprehend. That’s par for the course, really, as commonplace as days that end in Y. Machines, phones, tablets, watches, the toaster after Hulk pressed the cancel button a little too hard—they’ve seen Tony futzing with just about everything that exists in the Tower (and some things that don’t—couldn’t—exist anywhere else except where Tony is).

What the team isn’t expecting when the elevator doors open onto the communal floor that sunny Tuesday afternoon is a living room scattered with men and women in various states of modest undress, all of whom immediately pivot in place to take stock of the new arrivals. Three men, one woman, and in the middle of their protective circle is Tony, eyes blazing with the same thrill of invention he often gets in the lab, a pair of needle-nose pliers clenched in his teeth.

Steve in particular notices the way Tony looks, because he’s developed a bad habit of doing that over the past year and change, and he’s kind of helpless at this point. Tony’s backlit by the afternoon sun, preoccupied with whatever he’s doing with the strange woman’s arm to distraction, and Steve can’t be judged too harshly—anyone with eyes would drag theirs over the exposed muscles of Tony’s arms, the shift and flex of his shoulders, the firm taper of his waist, the pronounced curve of his a—

“Are we, uh, interrupting something?” Clint has to shout to be heard above the music blasting from all corners of the room.

Tony looks up from his work and waves his free hand, the one that isn’t wrist-deep in what looks remarkably like a prosthetic arm. He makes a ‘cut it off’ motion to his neck before taking the pliers out of his mouth while FRIDAY lowers the rock music to a dull background hum.

“Hey! Sorry, I tried to keep it to the lab, but these guys wanted to see where the Avengers hang out, and I couldn’t say no.”

Steve tears his eyes away from Tony (who should really work the sweaty-and-disheveled-mechanic look more often) to take in the others in the room with him. It’s a panorama of people, and the first thing Steve notices, besides their more obvious differences, is how comfortable they all are with each other, to the point that walking in on this moment feels invasive, almost rude.

The four are all of remarkably different builds and backgrounds, not a similarity between them: an African American man, no taller than Steve was before the serum, sits on the couch; a white man, thin as a rake and twice as tall, is reaching for a glass of water on the coffee table; an Asian American man, whose shoulders are somehow even broader than Steve’s, stands rigidly next to Tony, arms folded across his chest; and the lone woman, whose glossy black hair is wound tightly in a bun at the back of her head. Steve notes the beautifully elaborate Native American tattoo covering the expanse of her shoulders and upper back.

Then Steve notices the high-and-tights, the form-fitting, drab beige shirts they’re all wearing, the combat boots lined up behind the loveseat, and he realizes, much like he did with Sam that morning in DC, oh—these are my people.

“Ah, well, welcome to the octagon!” Clint says with an easy smile, stepping forward to shake hands and say hello like a normal human being. Natasha gives Steve one of her looks before she and Sam follow him into the living room—I don’t know any more than you do.

Bruce, Wanda, and Vision stay behind with Steve to let the first wave through. Steve watches his teammates greet the airmen without fanfare, welcoming strangers into their private midst like it’s routine.

“Didn’t know y’all would be around, else we would’ve stayed outta sight.”

Sam laughs, clapping the sitting man on the shoulder. “Dude, if Tony told us you were here, I would have come downstairs and bugged you, myself.”

“Sure, PJ—you just wanted to see what real Air Force muscle looks like,” the man grins, flexing his barrel chest hard enough to strain his shirt. Sam guffaws and gives him a friendly punch to the shoulder, which the man returns in kind with a fist to the kidney.

Clint is already deep in conversation with the redheaded beanpole, who talks so fast it’s dizzying; Natasha is standing next to the third man, keeping her eyes forward, and together they watch Tony disappear back into his work, muttering things back and forth to each other, so quiet even Steve can’t hear.

“I think all is clear,” Vision says smoothly, drifting forward with Wanda, who is visibly fascinated by the woman’s tattoo until she steps into the throng and sees something that makes her face fall.

Steve moves forward, curious and worried in equal measure. Bruce is hot on his heels.

“—I mean it’s crazy right? It’s crazy, Tony Stark, Tony Stark calls us up out of the blue one day and says ‘You’ll be waiting six months to a year for a decent repair job, let alone a complete replacement, and I owe you guys, come on by Avengers Tower—”

Redhead is gabbing excitedly, gesticulating like Tony does when he’s in the mad depths of an invention binge. Steve sees the glint of metal and hears the whir of mechanisms working smoothly together in tandem and realizes both of the man’s hands are prosthetic.

“Oh man! Oh, man! Captain, sir, wow, it’s—fuck, shit, my mama would kill me for swearing in front of you, fucking—shit, sorry, fuck—ah, damn it!”

Steve smiles and introduces himself—Corporal Bill Levee, apparently, is just as talkative up close. For all that his hand is made of metal, his grip feels remarkably, tangibly real.

While Bill goes back to talking compound bows with Hawkeye, Steve looks at the man on the couch. Sam and Vision are now sitting on either side of him: both of his legs end at mid-thigh, and in their place are what look like brand-new metal limbs, designed to match his proportions exactly. The metal is dark, shiny, beautiful. He looks thrilled. He looks even more excited when Steve approaches, leaps to his feet and doesn’t even balk at the fact that Steve is a head and change taller than him and a superhero—he just steps right up to Steve and jabs him once in the shoulder with a grin.

“Captain Rogers,” he says, and sticks out his hand. Steve shakes it. The man points a thumb at himself: “Captain Freddy Harrison. A little after your time, sir, but an honor to meet you regardless.”

Bill is still talking a mile a minute behind him; Freddy sits back down on the couch and lets Steve continue his “Captain America Meet-and-Greet” but makes him promise to come back and swap stories, which Steve does, happily, even as his mind whirls. How does Tony know these people? Why are they here? Where did these prosthetics come from?

Bruce has joined Natasha, standing apart from the rest to talk to her and her new friend. Steve stops to say hello, as is only right, waiting until he’s entered the man’s line of sight to do so. Only then does he realize that the man has no line of sight, because both of his eyes are prosthetic.

“I’m not completely blind, Captain,” he says, voice low but good-humored. Next to him, Natasha smothers a smile behind her hand.

“Steve, this is Sergeant Daniel Kwon,” Bruce offers. The sergeant smirks and extends a hand—the eyes in his sockets look incredibly lifelike, but don’t move even a fraction of a millimeter. They gleam, still, with an uncanny sense of knowing. Steve has a sneaking suspicion they see more than enough and match his original eyes perfectly.

“I’ll still make an exception in your case, Sergeant Kwon,” Steve replies, shaking his hand, “for not saluting a ranking officer.”

Dan chuckles under his breath.

“Let’s see your battlefield commission and then we’ll talk rank, sir,” he says.

“Ugh, men.”

Steve turns around, and there’s Tony, flipping shut a panel high on the woman’s left arm with a smile. He pockets the pliers and drags the back of his forearm across his glistening forehead. Somewhere in the back of Steve’s mind, a saxophone is blaring.

Honestly, the intrusive thoughts he could deal with, but the fact that Tony looks this good after hours of hard labor really isn’t fair.

“Seriously, barely two minutes in and you military guys are at it like frat bros at a kegger.” Tony looks sidelong at the woman, who rolls her shoulders with a pop and a groan. “How do you manage?”

“Easy,” she says, “I let them drink until they pass out and then I run back to the women’s barracks with all their clothes so they have to walk across the TOC butt-naked.”

“I think we need to compare our respective strategies,” Natasha says, taking Wanda’s arm on her way to greet the other woman. “This is Wanda; I’m Natasha.”

The woman turns to face them. Her features are striking in a way that makes Steve think of old friends from the war, men he met on those rare occasions he had leave. He’d listen to Native American Code Talkers tell stories of land and legacy and home, stories older than anything Steve had ever known. He’d never been so humbled.

“Delores,” she replies, shaking their hands. “But please, call me Del, or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Steve looks at Tony, who giggles—giggles—and mouths ‘Umbridge.’ Del must have ears like a bat, because she smacks him smartly with her prosthetic arm and Tony yelps before devolving into outright laughter. Steve could watch and listen to Tony laugh—that big, gut-wrenching cackle Tony thinks is unattractive but Steve thinks makes Tony look like happiness personified—all day.

The conversation devolves quickly from there, and within a couple of excitable minutes, the airmen are eager to get a look at the Avengers’ game room. They pile into the elevator, talking animatedly over each others’ heads, placing bets and picking teams as the doors close.

In their wake, Steve’s ears are buzzing, and he realizes with a jolt that he’s now alone. With Tony.

It happens often enough that the fact itself isn’t jarring, but something about being alone with disheveled-frazzled-happy-sweaty Tony sets Steve’s nerves on high alert. Tony is loose-limbed and relaxed, moving in and out of Steve’s space as he picks his way around the living room barefoot, looking for discarded tools.

“There you are,” he coos at a tiny device that looks remarkably like a laser pointer. Knowing Tony, it’s probably a real laser. He pockets it, assumably to put away later (or fish out of the laundry at the last minute).

“Who are those people, Tony?”

“Friends of friends,” Tony replies. Steve also knows Tony well enough to recognize his I am being deliberately vague voice when he hears it.

“Uh-huh.” Steve sits on the arm of the sofa, legs stretched out in front of him. “And who are they really?”

“Who wants to know?”

“Me,” Steve says gently, scratching his palms with dulled fingernails. “They’re strangers, and they’re in our home. I think if you were in my shoes you’d want to know.”

Tony stoops to pick up and pocket what looks like a dissected nine-volt battery. Steve kind of wants to ask, but he’s too distracted by Tony’s ass in those black Levis to ask any cogent questions. Seriously, he wonders, are those painted on?

Only when Tony sighs, and quite heavily, that Steve realizes this was more than just a friendly house call (of sorts) on Tony’s part. He watches Tony stand up, facing the floor-to-ceiling windows bright with the glow of sunset, and admires the way Tony suits the view so perfectly. He looks good all the time, but like this—skin burnished gold, brown eyes honeyed by the light—he’s something else. Someone Steve wants, desperately, but like most things in his life, knows he’s not allowed to have. Tony Stark is beyond him in so many ways. Reaching for him seems futile, so Steve stays on the ground, and looks.

Tony fidgets nervously with a mini Phillips Head screwdriver, twiddling it in his long, clever fingers as he stares out the windows at the city sprawled out beneath them.

“They’re from the same company as the guys in the convoy I was with when I—when they—” his voice sputters out before he can say the words. Steve doesn’t push. He doesn’t say anything. He just waits for Tony to gather himself. It’s one of the hardest lessons he’s had to learn about Tony Stark—sometimes it’s better to let him get a handle on himself, rather than jump in and try to handle Tony for him. It doesn’t change the fact that Steve wants nothing more than to hold his hand, now that it’s hanging at his side like its string was just cut. “A while back I dug into Air Force records, talked to Rhodey, got some names. Five people died in the hit that was meant for me. I figured, the least I could do was find five of their closest buddies who needed help.”

Tony glances back at Steve—the little smile on his lips could break Steve’s heart if he let it.

“And I’ve heard you talk about how convoluted the VA is when it comes to services and benefits and whatnot. I figured, my tech probably took their limbs, I should cut out the middle man and give them new ones, myself.”

Something in Steve’s heart shifts irrevocably before kicking into a whole new gear. By the end of the sentence, Steve knows he’s going to do something incredibly rash, the only question is when.

Funny—ten minutes ago he was coming back from a team exercise, prepared to give Tony a friendly but firm talking-to about missing it, and instead here he is, breathless, heart racing, sitting and listening to Tony talk humbly about fixing people because he knows it’s the right thing to do. Because it’s the least he can do. And isn’t that the wildest understatement Steve’s ever heard?

As if anything about Tony Stark could ever possibly be least.

“You built them all those prosthetics?”

“Top of the line!” Tony smirks, saluting Steve with his Phillips Head. “Nothing more high tech in any of them than a heart rate monitor and some other odds and ends—no rocket launcher eyes, don’t worry. I kept my baser urges in check with these.”

“It’s good,” Steve blurts out, too loud and too fast. Tony inhales sharply, fingers clenching around the screwdriver hard enough his knuckles go white. Steve feels his face go hot and groans. “I mean, what you did—what you’re doing—is good, Tony. It’s really generous of you to do that for those guys.”

Steve crosses his arms across his chest to make himself feel safer, more contained. If he doesn’t, who knows where these ridiculous feelings might go. He feels silly enough as it is, blushing and stammering while dressed in his uniform, sans helmet. Even Tony’s probably wondering why he’s wasting his time talking to a red-white-and-blue fossil when he could be downstairs destroying Clint and the others at pool or showing the airmen around the tower, giving them the bells-and-whistles tour.

Tony looks at the floor, away from Steve. Steve feels it like a physical thing, Tony pulling away, retreating, wanting to hide. Amazing, how a man who almost literally wears his heart on his sleeve still thinks he doesn’t have one.

“Yeah, well,” Tony mutters, “it’s good practice, anyways.”

Steve’s thoughts grind to a halt.

“Practice for what?”

Tony starts moving around, shuffling back and forth across the living room floor, looking for something that probably isn’t there. Steve knows when Tony is avoiding eye contact with him—it happens often enough.

“Just a pet project, nothing major. Hey, have you seen my cable knife anywhere?”

“Did you leave it on the floor? Tony…”

“I know, I know, the only thing worse is Legos, but I was busy! You can’t blame me for—OW FUCK!”

Like a shot, Steve is up and holding on to Tony so he doesn’t hop backwards into the glass coffee table. One arm wrapped around his back and the other hand on his bicep, Steve steadies Tony as Tony searches underfoot for whatever hurt him.

He comes up with a magnet the size of a dime.

“Ha,” Tony wheezes. “Speaking of Legos.” He drops it into his pocket along with the laser pointer and whatever else is in there and hangs his head. Rubbing his brow, Tony says: “God. I could sleep for a week after today.”

Steve keeps holding Tony. He should let go, but opportunities like this so rarely present themselves. Plus, Tony feels so good under his hands, strong and warm and just small enough to envelope in a hug if Steve let himself, if Tony wanted him to, and Tony does look dead on his (adorable, bare) feet…

“What else have you been working on today? This pet project?”

“Hah?” Tony breathes, still wincing slightly from stepping on the magnet. “Oh yeah. For Bucky, when you find him. Ow, motherfucker, that hurt…”

The thing about being in Tony Stark’s presence is, it’s so easy to lose the plot. Tony’s mind moves faster than Steve could ever hope to match, mentally or physically; he’s always one pace behind, catching up. It’s fine, though; he actually kind of likes it, being challenged the way Tony challenges him, delighting in the push-pull of their banter and debates, the way Tony teaches him about science and tech and the 21st century without being condescending. Steve gets to a point where he thinks he knows Tony, how he operates, how his brain works—then moments like this happen, and it’s like he’s sprinted smack into a brick wall.

“What?”

“Bucky, you said—are you designing a new arm? For Bucky?”

Tony seems to notice their position at that exact moment. Steve feels him blaze with heat where his hands are touching Tony’s bare skin.

“Uh. Maybe?” At Steve’s look, Tony bites his lip and sighs. “Fine. Yeah, I am. Can you blame me? The thought of Sputnik wandering around the tower with that Cold War-era paperweight hanging off him when I’ve got brand-spanking-new, finely-tuned StarkTech all but ready to go? Perish, Steve, perish the thought.”

Tony is smiling up at him from his place in Steve’s arms, relaxed now, almost leaning into him, and all Steve can think is, he belongs here.

“What’s that face?” Tony asks, curious but still smiling. He pokes Steve in the middle of the forehead with a cheeky grin. “Keep frowning like that, your face’ll stick.”

When, apparently, is right now.

When Steve reaches up and takes Tony’s hand, he gets to watch Tony’s thoughts run into the wall, for once.

When he weaves their fingers together, he gets to watch Tony’s mouth click shut and his eyes go wide. Super-hearing means he can count the beats of Tony’s racing heart without having to feel them. Steve’s telegraphing every movement, every feeling, as much as he possibly can now that words seem to have escaped him.

He must manage okay, because the look that passes over Tony’s face is the same one Steve’s seen in the mirror a thousand times since the day he realized he was halfway in love with Tony Stark: wonder, one part lost, one part found.

When he leans down, slowly, Steve gets to watch Tony’s beautiful eyes flicker and shut. He counts the dark lashes where they rest on Tony’s high cheekbones, breathes in his smell and listens to the shudder in his exhale before drawing him in for a kiss that draws everything else to a quiet, blissful blank.

When Tony pushes his fingers up into Steve’s hair, scratching lightly at the nape of his neck, Steve drops his arms around Tony’s waist and pulls him in close with a soft groan. He’s warm and messy and still holding that damn screwdriver, but he kisses Steve soft and eager like it’s the only thing he wants to do for the rest of his life, folds himself into Steve’s embrace like he wants to build a home right there in his arms.

One day Steve will tell him he already did, a long time ago, and it wasn’t the least of anything.

***

more fics on AO3!

#rachel writes fic #I really should slow it down but this one would NOT leave me alone!#tony stark #steve rogers #stevetony #superhusbands #stony #stony fic #stovetuna #prompt fill #this is EXTREMELY SOFT #hopefully it makes up for the angst of the last one ;____;#also lol @ myself thinking ‘this one will be shorter’!!#UGH I FORGOT AIR FORCE RANKS ARE DIFFERENT DAMN IT!#blame my late night brain

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etherian-affairs · 5 years ago

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The Entrapdak Pacific Rim Crossover No One Asked For.

“Scorpia and Catra are already in field with the Force Captain but we underestimated it! It’s Category Three but it apparently has some adaptations we haven’t seen before!” Entrapta is bouncing around Marshal Hordak. “We have to sortie in the Fright Zone immediately! Think of the daaataaa!”

Hordak was looking over the same feeds as Entrapta. She’s right this thing is definitely nonstandard for one of these First Ones Kaiju they’ve been fighting. “The Fright Zone is an experimental unit Entrapta it isn’t to be launched for any reason...”

“It’s the only one that can be readied fast enough out of all the Jaegers I’d actually trust to preserve the body! The Alliance Jaegers will take too long to get here and Eternal Cadet is still undergoing repairs after Kyle and Rogelio lost the arm!”

Hordak grumbles. Dammit she’s right. She’s always right. “Fine. Get suited up I’ll meet you in the launch bay.”

“Yay!” Entrapta claps her hands before scurrying off.

...

“Initiating Launch Operations - Fright Zone”

The synthetic voice rings out over the klaxons filling the Horde Shatterdome. Hordak walks along the enclosed catwalk into the cockpit of the Jaeger. Entrapta had done almost all of the design work on this one, they’ve fielded it only a few times before now. The lights are already on, the secondary generators having spooled up.

He finds Entrapta within, suited up and ready to go. “Hi Hordak! You should wear your Drivesuit more often it looks good on you!” She grins.

“I could say the same of you.” Hordak deadpans as he steps onto the piloting rig. The arms come down and fasten onto his drive suit.

Entrapta just giggles and does the same.

Suited up, rigged in, they nod to each other. Ready to connect.

The Neural Drift is initialized. Their thoughts, feelings, and memories all intermingle. Meld together into a single shared mental space. This is the failure point for most prospective pilots. You need trust. You need acceptance. Otherwise sharing a mind will only drive you apart. You’ll fail and the Jaeger will fail with you.

Entrapta and Hordak have never failed a drift.

The AI speaks again. “Inserting First Ones Core.”

Power surges through the Fright Zone, and its pilots, as the strange First One’s tech is placed within the chest. The massive machine is moved on rails out of the front gate of the Shatterdome. Dropped into the water at the same time as the core’s activation.

He can feel Entrapta’s excitement. Her desire to fight and collect all of the data she can on their opponent. She can feel his determination to help her with her goal, and his determination to defeat their foe.

The enhanced sensory system of the Jaeger fills their mind, supercedes their own lesser organic selves. They can see the battle happening out at sea. The Force Captain and the Kaiju doing battle.

Machine Muscle pulls and flexes. Legs move.

The Fright Zone charges out toward the fray.

#my writing #pacific spop #entrapdak

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themadamelibrarian · 5 years ago

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Excuse Me?!

Written By: @themadamelibrarian & @helvonasche Rating: Explicit Relationships: Lucifer/Sam Winchester Characters: Lucifer (Supernatural), Sam Winchester Additional Tags: Samifer - Freeform, Lover's Quarrel, Anal Sex, Grace Kink, Top Sam, Bottom Lucifer, Wing Kink, Grace Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Oral Sex Summary: They had a deal, it was simple enough or so Sam thought. When Lucifer can't abide by the rules any longer will Sam be open to the changes that have to take place?

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Tagging: @copperseraphim @thenanahunter @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell@idabbleincrazy @truxblooded

LINK TO AO3

Sam cursed under his breath as he stomped through the sudsy water that was pooled around the base of the dishwasher as he unloaded dishes covered in soap and caked-on egg yolks from that morning’s breakfast. The water had overflowed through the seals and when he’d opened the door nothing but foam poured out along with the smell of the liquid dish detergent that was clearly not meant for the machine. He left the partially washed dishes in the sink to be taken care of later so he could mop up the mess on the floor. Sam was in the process of wringing out the mop for the third time when Lucifer walked in, all smiles and swagger.

“There you are, my love. I thought we were going to go to the carnival?” Lucifer asked as he wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist and planted a soft kiss to the curve of his neck.

Sam shrugged Lucifer off his shoulder and returned to mopping the floor. “Can’t now. I have to do the dishes you were supposed to have done and on top of that the mess you made with the dish machine, which I know you know how to use and that dish liquid doesn’t go in it.”

Stepping away from Sam, Lucifer raised his hands in defense as he said derisively, “Just because I know how to do something doesn’t mean I’m going to, Sam.”

With a cutting look, Sam turned his back and propped the mop in the corner, then worked on cleaning the dishes in the sink, “Especially if I ask you too, right? Nevermind, I don’t want to know.”

Lucifer watched calmly as Sam became more flustered. Fully aware that at any moment he could have the entire house cleaned better than Sam could ever dream, but the nagging thought of their agreement kept him from acting. When they had decided that they were more than just fucking, they had laid out rules. Specific rules that would allow them to cohabitate without Lucifer using his grace for every little thing and making Sam feel incapable child by doing so. Lucifer had to play human, mostly.

Seeing Sam struggle Lucifer began to play with him, pointed at the dish in Sam’s hand as he scrubbed off the crusted food. Before Sam had worked through half the crud, the plate was suddenly clean.

Sam looked at the plate in surprise and turned it accusingly toward his partner, “Are you serious? I thought we agreed that you do things the normal way?”

Lucifer took a seat at the table as he listened, unconcerned about angering Sam. “I didn’t do anything unreasonable,” the angel said as he inspected his fingernails, “Just doing my part, pulling my weight…”

“Pulling your weight,” Sam muttered as he put the dish on the counter and picked up the next one, “If you wanted to pull your weight you would have used the dish pods like I showed you and not made an unholy mess all over the kitchen.”

While Sam prattled about responsibilities, specifically the ins and outs of operating a dishwasher, Lucifer got up from his seat and quietly walked up behind his human. Like when he first entered the kitchen, he wrapped his arms around the taller man and spoke low while nuzzling into Sam’s neck, “It’s a human’s job, cleaning; you’re all such messy creatures.”

Sam dropped the plate he’d been holding and turned in the circle of Lucifer’s arms and gave him a scathing glare, “Excuse me?! Did I just hear right?”

“The idea that I would wash old food off plates is… repellent, Samuel,” Lucifer said languidly, moving his hands to Sam’s hips.

“Old food that us ‘messy’ humans eat,” Sam pushed his way out of Lucifer’s hold and dried his hands as the vein in his neck throbbed with his contained anger. Lucifer’s words struck a chord deep inside him. It reminded Sam far too much of the apocalypse when every angel he met called him unclean or ‘mud monkey.’

Cupping Sam’s cheek and stroking just under his bottom lip, Lucifer cooed, “Love, you know that’s not what I mean.”

“Isn’t it?” Sam jerked away and threw the towel on the table, unable to stand Lucifer’s patronizing tone.

Shaking his head, Lucifer knew better than to try to approach Sam again. This wasn’t the first time they had had this sort of argument. But the Morning Star was growing tired of denying what he was for the sake of Sam’s fragile sense of humanity.

“If you didn’t want to do the ‘repellent’ dishes, you should have just said so instead of causing a bigger mess. Which this ‘messy’ human is cleaning up. How about this, Lucifer, how about you just go back to wherever you go when you aren’t here and leave the unclean little monkey alone,” Sam nearly yelled, pointing at the sink and kitchen in general.

“Enough,” Lucifer said, trying to keep calm. Granted, humanity did little for him aside from the occasional amusement, Sam had never been lumped in with the rest. Using his grace, Lucifer repaired the dishwasher, cleaned the floor, and the dishes. Glancing at what he had done to draw Sam’s attention, he waited for Sam to finally lose what little composure he still had.

Taking a look around the room, Sam’s face started to turn red and he stormed past Lucifer muttering about how done he was with this whole situation. Lucifer had broken the rules, his promises, on numerous fronts and Sam was too irritated to have any kind of rational conversation about any of it. The situation made him feel foolish. Foolish for asking Lucifer to contribute to the household and foolish because the angel just did what he’d originally been asked with no more than a thought, negating all the work Sam had done.

Deciding that he still hadn’t made his point, Lucifer smiled as the dishes vanished, safely placed in the cupboard. He knew Sam was growing angrier with each defying act, but it was important. Sam needed to learn that Lucifer wasn’t human.

Sam took one last look at the kitchen and left, stomping down the hall to his room and slamming the door shut. Knowing that the angel would follow, he grabbed a dry erase marker and made a few quick marks on the door to keep him out, but unknowingly making a small error in his haste. Tossing the marker to the desk, Sam stripped out of his clothes and went into the bathroom to wash away the soap residue on his skin.

Lucifer was in Sam’s room, it had been quite some time since he had been able to use his wings for travel but he was still faster than the human. Unseen, Lucifer watched Sam’s futile attempt at warding and his hurried striptease. The archangel followed Sam into his bathroom. Once Sam was in the shower, Lucifer leaned against the counter, slowly materializing and asked, “Trying to wash off the human?”

“Fuck you, Mephistopheles,” Sam snapped as he cranked on the water, adjusting it to the temperature he could stand and stepped under the water. He drew the curtain shut with enough force, he felt it had a note of finality to it. Like back when you could slam a phone receiver into a cradle to end a call.

Lucifer walked toward the shower and silently pulled the curtain open and studied Sam’s body. The steam caressed his newly exposed skin, having ditched his clothes in a manner that would frustrate Sam further. Muscles flexed as he watched Sam lean his head against the wall opposite Lucifer, a picture of frustration as he attempted to calm himself.

Sam unaware of his audience, felt the anger and tension gradually draining away like the water and shift into something different but not unwelcome. When he felt his cock beginning to harden, he looked down and realized that Lucifer was behind this, most likely using his grace to help alter his mood. Sam lifted his head and sighed. “Knock it off. I’m mad at you.”

“You want me to stop?” Lucifer asked, unable to hide the anger in his voice. Sam seemed completely unaware of the potential of his angelic powers, never allowing Lucifer to use his natural abilities on him for more than healing or travel. With conviction, Lucifer made his grace’s presence known by running it along the inside of Sam’s thigh, like he would his own hand.

“We’ve talked about this, Luc’,” Sam breathed as he unconsciously shifted his stance as if to allow better access, “It’s why we have the rules we agreed to.”

Continuing the deliberate teasing, Lucifer stepped into the shower but staying on the side furthest from Sam, while his grace stroked Sam’s thighs. “I’ve never been good at following rules,” he said as he watched Sam react to his grace inching higher, “They’ve written books about it.”

“You said the books were mostly bull,” Sam turned to face Lucifer, pressing his back against the cool tiles and revealing his erect length valiantly lifting away from his thigh.

The archangel’s eyes were drawn to the human’s impressive cock but raised them slowly, taking the time to follow the curves and angles of Sam’s torso. His body was exquisite, perfectly sculpted to please the eye, but it was Sam’s soul that drew Lucifer in and kept him needing more.

Lucifer slid a hand up his own thigh, mirroring his grace’s actions on the human. As his hand drew closer to his own hardening cock he traced his fingertips closer. Hearing Sam’s stifled moan as the grace that mimicked Lucifer’s movements nearly brushed the base of the hunter’s cock made Lucifer shiver. He was never in control during these moments, Sam was in charge when it came to this part of their relationship. Seeing the effect he was having on the man in front of him was heady.

Sam bit the inside of his lip to keep from outright moaning from the feeling of Lucifer’s grace touching him in way’s it’d never had before. A part of him wanted to protest on principle. When they’d made the ‘no grace during sex’ rule, Sam had still been dealing with the memories of his possession by Gadreel and the concept had made him uncomfortable, but now...with it actually happening he found he was enjoying it a lot. This was a thought he wasn’t ready to admit it. “Luc’. Don’t…Don’t... stop,” the words that fell out of his mouth surprised him and had him snapping his eyes open and searching out his angel’s.

Locking eyes with his human as his hand slid across his own stomach and his grace did the same, Lucifer leaned into the wall as his hips pushed away. As Sam’s gaze dropped, Lucifer began to say what he had been holding back for the past six months, “Choices always were a problem for me. Denying what I am, no longer appeals to me.”

Dragging his hand down and wrapping his fingers around his cock, Lucifer observed Sam’s reaction. The human’s mouth hung open as the grace encircled the base of his cock and began to pulse. Knowing that Sam’s anger was nearly evaporated, Lucifer pressed his point home as his hand and grace began to slowly stroke their respective cocks, “I am not human and I will no longer pretend. Accept me for what I am.”

“I-I do accept you,” Sam grunted as he felt pressure squeeze the head of his cock before sliding back down, “Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“I’m pleased to hear that,” Lucifer said, smiling before he left the shower and his grace disappeared with him.

Exiting the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist, Sam expected to see Lucifer perched on the end of his bed… but he wasn’t there. “Dammit Lucifer,” he called out to the empty room, a hint of his previous anger returning, “The question is do you accept my limitations or are you just playing with me to satisfy your own morbid fascination with my species. Everyone likes monkeys in zoos, but the keepers rarely fuck them.”

“What is your fascination with monkeys?” Lucifer asked from behind Sam. “You are not a pet or something I study,” he said, as he walked around to the bed revealing that he was still nude, “Despite my natural… advantages, I have always treated you as an equal, Samuel.”

Sam huffed in exasperation as he toweled the dripping water from his hair, “Not to hear your family talk. All humans are little ‘mud monkeys’ and they weren’t sparing with the use of the name. It’s only logical that it’s a belief shared by the entirety of the host, and as for equality, whether you want to admit it or not, I will never truly be your equal.”

Taking a few steps toward Sam, now close enough that if he reached out he could either lovingly stroke Sam’s cheek or slap the sass out his mouth, “They are not my family. What is it you and your brother say?” Lucifer pretends to consider before continuing, “Ah, family doesn’t end with blood, but it doesn’t start there either. Despite your feelings about other angels, they are no more my family than the Campbells are yours.”

“You don’t have blood, Lucifer. You’re a ball of celestial intent in a pretty blond wrapper,” Sam turned his back to the angel and proceeded to pull on a pair of boxer briefs.

Fuming for a moment then regaining his composure, Lucifer felt that Sam wasn’t hearing him. If Sam truly understood what Lucifer was trying to convey, surely Sam would cease this petulant display and they could move on to what they both wanted: sex. Despite being able to easily hear what Sam was thinking, especially now that he was nearly screaming prayers at him, this was one boundary that Lucifer would never forgo. Sam’s thoughts were and would always be his own.

Once dressed, Sam goes to the door to leave the room as his mind spirals deeper into a web of confusing thoughts and feelings, each more depressing than the last. He’d spent the majority of his life with domineering Alpha males controlling him, and know it felt like Lucifer wanted the same. Sam knew that he couldn’t be in a relationship with anyone, male or female, who felt the need to control him like his father. That would never work and he’d be forced to leave no matter how much he cared for that person. As he felt his heartache and swell in his chest, he reached for the doorknob.

Lucifer could feel the distress coming off Sam in waves, unsure at what to do he rushed forward, grabbed him by the shoulders, and spun him around. This action caused Sam to fall against the door, Lucifer had moved with unnatural speed, losing control for a moment despite his efforts to remain calm. This is why he was drawn to Sam. It wasn’t that Sam was his vessel or his appearance, it was the way that no matter how much Lucifer tried to reign in his emotions he would always lose his composure. Sam brought out the human in him, something he didn’t even know he possessed until now.

Taking a steadying breath at his realization, Lucifer locked eyes with the clearly stunned Sam. Barely audible, Lucifer whimpered, “Kiss me?”

“W-what?” Sam asked, clearly confused.

Unsure how to explain what he was thinking, Lucifer felt his own heartbreaking. He needed Sam to be in charge, needed him to take control. If Sam relinquished that control, would he even care about the angel any longer? Tears beginning to well, his icy blue eyes burned into Sam’s as he pleaded, “Please, kiss me, Luna Meum.”

Sam saw the anguish in his angel’s eyes and couldn’t resist giving him what he asked for. He never could. Leaning in, Sam pulled Lucifer to him and sealed their mouths together. It was a kiss filled with pain and anguish and every ounce of love Sam held for this man.

Never having been as vulnerable or exposed, Lucifer felt a tear fall as he relinquished control. He knew that Sam needed to be in control, not for power or dominance. Sam liked dictating what happened and when, as well as how. He knew all of this from his time possessing Sam, as much as he hated to admit it. He had said yes in the hopes to regain control of the events of the apocalypse and his body, and Lucifer couldn’t deny him even that, as his fingers wove into Sam’s wet hair.

Squeezing Lucifer’s shoulders, Sam spun him around and slammed him into the bedroom door, deepening the kiss until it was a frenzy of tongues and lips hungrily seeking affection and validation.

Realizing that his worst fears had no foundation and that Lucifer wasn’t seeking to control him, Sam reached down between them and firmly grasped both of their throbbing lengths in one hand.

“I could never harm you,” Lucifer cooed as he rocked into Sam’s hand, feeling Sam’s cock against his own nearly pushing him over the edge before restraining himself. He wanted to wait.

“No?” Sam stroked quickly along their cocks, “You could wipe me off this planet with a thought, Lucifer. Are you saying you’re submitting to someone weaker than yourself?”

Pressing his forehead against Sam’s, Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut before looking at what Sam was doing. Sighing, Lucifer spoke in a rush, “Despite my abilities as an archangel, I could never do anything but what you ask of me aside from that. I belong to you, Samuel. Always.”

Releasing his hold on them, Sam lifted Lucifer into his arms, carrying him to the edge of the bed, and dropped him onto the soft mattress. “And I am yours,” Sam murmured as he began to kiss his way down Lucifer’s chest, taking a small amount of time to lick and suck at the angel’s pert nipples. Working his way down until his lips rested above dusty blond curls surrounding the base of Lucifer cock.

Lucifer wanted to touch Sam, run his fingers through the human’s hair and push him down onto his now painfully hard cock. Knowing that his submission was necessary, instead of giving in to his desires, Lucifer gathered handfuls of the bedding and clenched his fists as he watched Sam work his way down.

Glancing up over the plane of Lucifer’s torso, Sam moved further down then placed a line of sloppy, open-mouthed kisses up Lucifer shaft. Taking him in hand, as he kissed, Sam began to stroke the angel’s penis, moving the foreskin over the sensitive glans. Once he reached the tip, Sam wrapped his lips around the fully exposed head of Lucifer’s cock and sucked. Sam reveled in the keening moan that fell from the lips of his writhing angel.

Swirling his tongue around once, flicking that spot on the underside of Lucifer’s cock, he repeated it until Lucifer was nearly sobbing want. Pulling away, he watched in amusement as Lucifer’s hips unconsciously rose from the bed to chase after Sam’s mouth.

Lucifer bucked his hips a few times before calming himself. Opening his eyes and looking down at the man between his thighs, unable to vocalize what he wanted as he mouthed soundless words.

“Tell me what you want, my Morning Star,” Sam purred as he nuzzled the tip nose against the shaft of Lucifer’s cock.

Spurred by his words, Lucifer sat up, grabbed Sam by the shoulders and pushed him down onto the bed. Before he spoke, he reached out with his grace to spread the hunter’s legs and stroke up and down his thighs, “To please you.”

Once the last word left his lips, his grace engulfed Sam’s cock as another tendril began to gently tease his hole. Circling and pressing gently, while sucking all of the man’s thick 9-inches. Lucifer looked up at his human, his love, to see his face contorted in opulence.

“Oh, God!” Sam choked out as his hands slammed against the mattress.

Smirking as he watched, Lucifer growled, “Do you see what you have been denying yourself. My grace is wonderful and can do the indescribable once allowed to flourish, all you need do is ask and I will always provide.”

Feeling the tension in his balls as he teetered dangerously close to the edge of his completion, Sam let out a breathy plea for Lucifer to stop.

After all, they had been through, part of Lucifer wanted to take over; force Sam into submission. But he needed to appease his human, he didn’t fully understand the importance of this but knew that he needed to acquiesce. Gradually this time, Lucifer pulled back his grace without causing Sam any extra discomfort and sat back as the hunter took deep breaths. Tilting his head, Lucifer asked, “Why do you want me to stop, didn’t you enjoy it?”

“Too much. I liked it too much,” Sam gasped, “I was going to cum.”

Shocked at Sam’s admission, Lucifer knew there was only one path for their evening. Sitting up and placing his hands on his thighs, Lucifer grinned as he asked, “Fuck me?”

Not having to be asked twice, Sam leaped out of bed and grabs a bottle of lube from the drawer. Smirking at his angel, he circled around behind Lucifer and roughly shoved him down to the bed so that his ass was tantalizingly displayed.

Popping the top of the lube, Sam slicked up his fingers as he contemplated what he was about to do. It had sunk in somewhere between Lucifer pushing him down and him nearly cumming that he was sleeping with an angel. An archangel even and that meant that Lucifer wasn’t a wilting hothouse flower. Sam could be as free as he had fantasized about. Lining up two of his fingers with Lucifer’s waiting hole, Sam pressed them in gently to see if his supposition would hold. When Lucifer moaned and didn’t shy away from his rougher than normal treatment, Sam grew more confident and thrust his fingers in as deeply as he could with abandon, ignore previously learned cautions that were necessary with human lovers.

“Oh, fuck, Cor Meum… I-I..” Lucifer stuttered as Sam began to put more force behind each thrust of his fingers, “M-more! I need more.”

“I’ll give you more,” Sam growled as he pulled his fingers free and shoved in all three at once, hard. Lucifer’s resulting cry of pleasure and the accompanying clench around Sam’s intruding fingers was like a symphonic assault on Sam’s senses. He knew in that moment that this night would keep him warm on lonely hunts in the future. Leaning over Lucifer’s back, Sam nipped at the edges of this shoulder blades as he put all his strength into pounding his fingers deep into Lucifer’s welcoming body.

It crossed Sam’s mind as he felt his fingers continually slip and slide into the nearly scorching heat of his lover, that if it was this good and he was just using his hand, what would it be like to actually have his cock buried into the same welcoming heat. Without warning or preamble, Sam withdrew his fingers and poured the lube directly onto his cock, smearing around until it shined in the low light of the bedside lamp. Gripping the base, Sam tapped his cockhead against Lucifer’s ass a few times before pushing into him, inch by agonizing inch.

As the slippery head of Sam’s cock began to press into his aching hole, Lucifer began to press his grace into Sam. With each inch of Sam that entered Lucifer, he returned the favor with his grace. He wanted to turn his head to see Sam’s face, but couldn’t. The feeling of his human buried in his ass and his grace being compressed rhythmically within the hunter was overwhelming. After months of denying his true nature, Lucifer felt free and complete.

Sam looked down to where their bodies were joined and realized that he was nearly bottomed out. For a moment a pang of concern for Lucifer coursed through him until he remembered the man beneath him wasn’t a fragile human who would never be able to handle his full potential. Sam shoved Lucifer harder into mattress, pinning him in place as he pistoned his hips fiercely. "How does it feel to be fucked by a dirty, little human?" he demanded in between thrusts.

Lucifer didn’t miss a beat as he willed his grace to truly match Sam’s thrust. Buried deep within the hunter, he quipped, “How does it feel to be fucked by a ball of celestial intent in a pretty blond wrapper?”

The question irritated Sam, but instead of falling for the bait, he tangled his fingers in Lucifer’s short hair and tugged it hard enough to bend the angel’s head back. His cock ramming repeatedly into Lucifer as the sensation of Lucifer’s grace breeching him finally registered, dragging a long throaty moan from the hunter.

“Harder, please, Sam,” Lucifer begged as he was fucked, “More.. fuck... I need more, Sam. You feel so good, Dilectus.”

Driven on by Lucifer’s actions, Sam began to redouble his efforts, fucking into his angel as hard as he could. Not feeling what he was used to, Sam acted on an impulse he had buried long ago when he realized the limitations of his size. Pulling out until the head of his cock was barely inside Lucifer, Sam slammed back into him with brute force.

Howling with delight as Sam pulled nearly all the way out and then shoved back into him, Lucifer’s fingers end up rendering the sheets into useless strips. The sensation of going from empty to completely full, over and over and the sheer force of Sam’s thrusts had Lucifer losing himself, feeling as if he were in a dream.

Sam lets go and forces his cock inside of Lucifer’s ass as hard and fast as he can...but feels nothing. It dawns on him suddenly: numbing lube. They only had it for Sam, who enjoyed getting fucked hard and rough but was human and needed a little help to achieve his goals. He knew his cock would soon be completely numb and he probably wouldn’t be able to cum and disappointment flooded him.

Lucifer, sensing that something was wrong lifted off his knees enough to twist around and look at the human. Seeing the disappointment on Sam’s face, Lucifer pushed up until he was on his knees with his back pressed flush against Sam’s chest. “What’s wrong, Amica Mea?”

“I can’t feel...I can’t feel my dick,” Sam looked at Lucifer in confusion, “I must have used the wrong lube.”

The archangel smirked as he tried to keep the bubble of mirth welling up buried inside. He carefully pulled off of Sam’s cock and gave it a loving stroke of his hand, “Well, aren’t you glad I’m an angel?”

“Don’t be an ass, “ Sam grumbled as he futilely thrust upward in hopes that he’d miraculously get some sensation back.

Without a word, Lucifer stared into Sam’s eyes as he began to massage the human’s prostate with his grace.

Gasping, Sam buried his face in the crook of Lucifer’s neck and wrapped his arms completely around the angel’s chest.

Forming his grace into the shape of his own cock, as Lucifer pushed Sam onto his back. As the archangel towered over the human, Lucifer did something that he had never even considered; as he fucked the hunter with his grace, Lucifer unfurled his wings.

The three sets of broad wings, in varying shades of orange and pink like the sunset in October, loomed over Sam who could see them for the first time. Like a moth to a flame, Sam’s hand gravitated toward one of the wings and grabbed ahold of the base, his eyes growing wide in awe as the downy feathers slipped between his fingers.

At the first contact Sam made, Lucifer felt his cock throb. He had been alone in the cage for so long, without any contact, physical, spiritual...even metaphorical. As Lucifer continued the intense grace-fueled prostate massage and felt Sam nearing his end, the archangel gave in to the all-encompassing sensation that flooded his entire being.

Sam’s breath caught in his throat for a split second before his whole body tensed up in a peak of pleasure like he’d never known before. His voice crying out Lucifer’s name, echoed off the bare walls, his body shaking as his cum splashed onto his chest.

Watching as Sam succumbed to sensation, Lucifer couldn't hold back any longer. Bellowing his human’s name, he felt the tension deep in his gut release as his cock throbbed a final time. Without realizing the time that had passed, Lucifer was lying on top of Sam’s sweat and cum-coated, heaving chest.

Sam was the first to rouse from his orgasmic stupor and reached up to stroke Lucifer’s hair. “Luc’, My Morning Star, are you with me?”

“You will never know how much you mean to me,” Lucifer replied absently.

The dopey grin that Sam had been sporting, melted away briefly and he whispered like he was almost ashamed to admit it, “Sometimes I don’t.”

Lucifer sat up, bracing himself on Sam’s chest and really looked at the human for the first time since the whole argument began. How could Sam not know the depth of his feelings for him? Had he not protected him from countless dangers on hunts, albeit without the hunter's direct knowledge. Or how far he’d been willing to bury his true nature and feeling about the subject all in the name of Sam’s best interest and happiness. The angel didn’t know how to put this all into words that wouldn’t exacerbate their already tumultuous situation. With no other recourse, Lucifer gently pressed two of his fingers into the middle of Sam’s forehead.

In an instant, Sam’s mind was filled with images of hunts where time after time what he had thought were close calls was actually Lucifer redirecting bullets or confusing adversaries just enough to buy Sam and Dean enough time to defeat them. Another flash and he saw Lucifer sitting on the roof of the bunker with his beautiful wings unfurled and draped in his lap. The look on Lucifer face could only be described as a sad longing, then he heard his own voice calling for the angel and Lucifer hid his wings away as if ashamed.

Even a time where Sam and Dean were nearly hit by a semi, but Lucifer was able to stop the Impala before the crash could occur. So many times Lucifer had stepped in, all in the name of Sam’s continuing existence and safety. And each time he would intervene, Sam knew now that Lucifer watched over him lovingly. Wanting nothing but the best, even if it didn’t include the archangel.

Sam was overcome with the echoing sentiment. Lucifer loved him, completely. Sam hoped that he could return the gesture, even in its grandeur there had to be a way for him to reciprocate. When the visions faded away, Sam looked deeply into his angel’s eyes, pleadingly. “I-I didn’t know,” his voice cracked a little as his eyes began to mist over with tears.

Lucifer already knew. He had felt Sam’s reaction and seen what Sam had wanted. When they were connected, they both were able to receive and send their memories and feelings, their hopes and desires. Lucifer knew, implicitly, that Sam loved him. The bond Lucifer had thought was purely one-sided, stemming an archangel that fell in love with a human, was mutual.

#Madamelibrarian writing with friends #My Writing #Supernatural #Fanfiction #spn fanfic #Lucifer/Sam Winchester #Lucifer #Sam Winchester #Samifer

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creative-frequency · 6 years ago

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Connor|RK800 x Reader: Ocularity Ch. 8

Word count: 2588 Warnings/Categories: Rating up to explicit, romance, friendship, fluff, light angst, bad language, uncle Hank Notes: Right now it’s hard to find time to write, but I’m getting there, slowly but surely with each chapter.

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August 15th 11:54 AM

The anatomy of androids is divided into five categories: Body structure, muscle systems, sensory systems, power source, which is Thirium 310 for all current models in production, and the central computing unit, for which CyberLife has coined the term “the mind palace”.

External testing of the body structure is done mostly empirically by inspecting the android’s structure. For instance, the seams need to be correctly welded with no leaks, and there can’t be any tears or gashes on the surface. Thermal and other methods of scanning radiation can be used if there is a need for deeper examination.

The testing of muscle systems is oriented towards challenging the physical abilities and functions of the android, but it’s impossible to completely separate it from the body structure. It’s better to examine the android as a whole and test all of its capabilities as one working machine unit. One popular method is to push it to its physical limits while overseeing the results.

The sensory systems of an android contain the same main categories as a human’s senses: Sight, hearing, taste, smell and touch. It’s crucial in order to achieve a humane design for androids to have and use these abilities. To increase their humanization, the sensory systems cannot be limited to the five; sense of balance, temperature, proprioception and in some models sexual stimulation, though it works differently from humans, are important.

In most areas, androids’ senses, especially where they’re not based on any specific sensory organ, are superior to humans. Their perception of time, agency and familiarity does not rely on the fragile human memory. The memory components are just computer parts containing information, ones and zeros, that can be copied, extracted and even manipulated like any data.

Without special equipment it’s difficult to test how an android receives the information about its body and the surrounding environment, but it’s easy to measure what information it receives.

The bulk of the physical level in your testing schedule with Connor consist of the muscle and sensory systems. Everything else will overlap with them in some way. After he is clear on the physical functionality, you’ll focus on the social modules, which is more or less your specialty.

“So that presentation about the physiology of androids is what made you pursue a career in the field?” Connor asks, dissipating the cloud of memories in your mind.

You focus back onto his brown eyes. You have only just returned to your office from the company cafeteria where you and Connor were instantly swarmed by eager colleagues. He was not fazed at all by the amount of people who wanted to congratulate and wish good luck to you both. In truth, you were the one who wanted to just grab the cup of tea and run back upstairs.

“Well not entirely… It was more about how he seemed to think that only boys could like robots.” You flash Connor a winning smile, feeling pride of your pettiness decades past.

“I see,” he replies and sets to sit down, “Your colleagues seem to think highly of you. They were eager to see what becomes of us.”

His choice of words entices a tense chuckle out of you and warms your face. You make yourself busy by leaning over the datapad on the desk and start skimming the social relations module list to see if there is anything to mark as checked based on the cafeteria visit. Connor just sits still, slightly looking around with a neutral smile on his face like the perfect plastic sculpture he is.

“Alright, let’s move forward…” you say and straighten your back.

Paragraph seven, physical functions.

Each body part of an android has a specified list of functions – movement area, rotation, strength and so on. It’s the part you’ve been least looking forward to. It’s mechanic, pure numbers that can be measured in pre-defined scales. You just have to order the machine to execute and see does it achieve the promised figures.

Being the most advanced prototype built so far means Connor’s physical abilities are remarkable. He is optimized for strength and speed, and the ultimate limitations derive from the size of his body. The literal heavy lifting part will have to wait for a more suitable environment, but checking the baseline, such as the rotation and angles of joints can be done in your office.

Toes, feet, knees, legs, hips, joints, joints, muscles, more joints… Mostly it’s a boring list to go through, until one sentence makes you so flustered you wish you could clip through the floor.

Why on earth would a detective android need a fully functioning–

“Doctor?” Connor asks when you fall silent. His LED is blinking.

Your gaze jolts up from the datapad and you can feel your ears warming alarmingly.

“Uh, there must be a mistake on the list. I-I’ll notify my superior about it,” you splutter hastily. You try think back to the assembly, cursing why you didn’t pay attention to such details. You were too charmed by the face to even look… down.

How the hell are you supposed to test that?

Looking at the earnest, tranquil smile and the dark depths of the brown eyes in front of you, you know exactly what it would take to conduct a test. The thumping of your heart beats in your ears covers every other sound.

You clear your throat awkwardly and resist the urge to fan your face with something. “Moving on to the next part.”

Connor nods.

“Fine motor skills – wrists, hands and fingers. At this point we’re just looking for flaws in the flow of the motion, so we’ll know your parts are functioning correctly.”

“I understand.”

You move to stand closer to him, realizing you have been unintentionally keeping a distance, when his pleasant scent hits your senses again.

“P-please pick this up using your index finger and thumb.” You hold out a small bead on your palm. The same test is used for infants and judging by the look on Connor’s face, he knows it too.

Is he releasing pheromones? You wonder as your eyes scan the curve of his mouth and dart to the strand of hair on his forehead. Each inhale brings his scent into your lungs and it doesn’t seem to dissipate as it should. It’s annoying and making you woozy. Your feet feel light and refuse to move even when Connor ends the test after using each of his eight different fingers and both thumbs in all possible combinations to carry it out.

You didn’t look at the motions at all.

“Very good, Connor.” The huskiness of your voice surprises you and you try to clear it out. You need to take a step away and use placing the bead to the desk as an excuse.

Next you ask Connor to weave his fingers in the air, to tap them down in a flowing pattern that goes back and forth one at a time.

Connor follows the instructions without even looking, but after he finishes the first motion, you both are staring at his hand in a perturbed silence.

He does it again. And again. An unnerving sensation bloats in your throat.

Fuck.

There is a small, unnatural twitch of his fingers, only a slightest disturbance in the pattern. His expression twists in focus and confusion. It shouldn’t be there.

“Can you feel it?” you ask.

“Yes.”

“Hm.”

You watch him do the motion again.

“There might be a nerve attachment issue,” you suggest.

“I think so too,” Connor agrees.

You don’t want to tear apart the whole android for such an insignificant mistake, but the problem may lie anywhere between Connor’s spine and fingertips. The nerve endings are flexible like rubber bands that are constantly flexed and relaxed. An important part of the system is the durability: The proverbial band can be flexed over and over to ease certain motions. It works just like human’s muscle memory; motions are easier after repetition. In theory, that is.

The problem might occur only in this small gesture, which would make it easily repairable. You can always replace the hand or the whole arm if the issue persists, but it won’t be cheap and so it shouldn’t be your first option. It’s probably just a slight calibration mistake in the assembly.

You need something to force the nerves, like physical therapy.

You walk around your desk to grab your purse and take out your wallet.

“Try with this.”

Connor looks at the coin on your palm before taking it. His LED spins as he is making the curious connection between finger movements and a coin.

The object supports the motion and forces the fingers into the right position. At least that’s how it works in theory, so you hold your breath as Connor tries the motion again. After each clean weave, you inhale just a little and the tight know in your throat loosens.

“It works,” Connor says. The speed of the coin flipping through his fingers increases rapidly.

Calibration is the key. A light huff of relief elates from your lips.

“Don’t sound so surprised.” Even though you do yourself.

Connor looks up from the coin in between his fingers. The smile on his face rivals the sun that is tinting the room with light. He looks… impressed, you think in the lack of a better word.

“Interesting solution. Thank you, Doctor. I said it before, but I really look forward to completing these tests with you,” he says in that bewitchingly earnest tone that has your heart make a few extra leaps.

“N-not at all. I’m just doing my job.” You strive for a smile, but it requires the response of too many muscles to work. You’re still booting from being blinded by his smile.

As much as you’re interested in seeing what will come in the future regarding your work with Connor, there is a dangerous tingle in the pit of your stomach you can’t put out: The sizzling embers of a feeling you’re scared to recognize, unwilling to consciously think of. It’s warm and Connor’s smile only makes it glow and itch.

Professionalism with androids can have nothing to do with feelings of any kind. You can’t afford to have your judgment clouded. If the RK800 model turns out to be defective, you need to be ready to make the call. A lot of other people’s work, hopes and money are riding on it.

For the weeks to come, you’ll have to brace yourself for infinite meetings with software engineers, psychologists, and other AI experts and researchers. Soon your calendar will be filled by consultations with specialists of different areas. Hopefully the morgue and some officials of Detroit Police Department will agree to have Connor for a visit. It will be good for him to get to show off his skills before actually joining the Detroit Police.

Now you just need something to keep your head in the game and douse the perilous warmth pooling inside you.

September 14th 10:23 AM

Your boss Ethan’s face peeks from the doorway and he knocks with his knuckles on the open door.

“Got a minute?”

Connor turns to look over his shoulder and you roll the chair away from him. “Of course. What is it?” you say.

Ethan steps inside your office and quickly takes a look around. “I gotta go to a meeting so I thought I’d stop by to make sure you’re coming tonight? It’ll do good for your career.”

Oh shit.

“U-uhh, yes.” Your tone makes Connor turn back to you and eye you suspiciously. “I’ll try.”

Ethan smiles. He knows you hate events like the one in question. He folds his arms over his chest and walks closer, each slow step widening the smile on his face.

“So. Is mister Three going to be put on show tonight?” He downright grins as he takes the tone of a co-conspirator.

“Nope. I broke it off,” you reply hastily and try to ignore Connor’s slightly tilted stare. As long as you’re working with Connor, Three, Four or anyone else is not a topic you wish to bring up in his company. Just to avoid any awkward inquiries concerning your love life.

Ethan rests his hands on his hips. “Oh shit. I’m sorry. What’d he say?”

“’Necessary evil.’” you roll your eyes to the ceiling and glance at Connor. “What does that make me? Doctor Frankenstein? Jeez…”

Ethan shakes his head but can’t help the amused twitch of his lips. “Not the answer you were looking for, I take it?”

You nod once. Connor’s curious brown eyes are still examining your expressions as he listens to the conversation between you and your boss intently. You absent-mindedly wonder does he understand any of it. Can he comprehend the topic and your objectives behind it?

Or who knows, maybe he understands the answer you’re looking for better than you do yourself.

“Well in any case, you won’t have to be alone if you decide to come,” Ethan continues.

Perhaps it’s your worst quality or your boss’s best, but he always knows when you’re not entirely honest with him.

“Yeah, like I said, I’ll try to come”–you give him a weak smile–“No promises, though.”

“Good. I’ll see you there, then!” With that and the smile that has turned into a teasing one, Ethan leaves you sitting in the middle of the room with one confused android.

You lean back in the chair, staring at the ceiling and groan. “Whyyyy…”

Connor’s head tilts even more as you drag your palms down your face. His LED circles a few rounds. You can see the “adapting to human unpredictability”-code flashing in his eyes.

“Doctor, if I may ask, what’s this evening?” His tone is perfectly polite.

You huff and focus on him. “A conference, I guess, but it’s a synonym to ‘boring’. Lots of people I don’t know, and I just have to try to smile and greet everyone.” You heave a sigh. “I’d much rather stay home and… stare at the wall.”

Connor’s brows crease. “Are androids allowed?” he asks.

“I… don’t know actually. Last year I told Ethan I wasn’t feeling well and left early,” you say, completely without shame and hope Connor never brings it up with your boss.

The RK700 model, Connor’s predecessor, was exhibited in the previous year’s event, but it looked really different at that time. You could’ve never guessed you would be the one to ultimately initiate it into production.

“I could accompany you,” Connor proposes.

You seek shelter from his chocolate eyes in the display on the desk. The list of untested social modules is open on it – behavior patterns, adaptation and improvisation, to name a few.

“I know you’re more comfortable in the company of androids,” he continues matter-of-factly.

“Rude, Connor.”

“I’m sorry. It’s what I’ve gathered from observing you these past four weeks.”

You stare at the screen for a moment, thinking, almost letting yourself get excited. You don’t even have a dress because you never were going to go. The occasion is fancy; it’s the highlight event of the year amidst people working with AI. The dress code dictates cocktail dresses for ladies and suits for men.

You would need to rent a suit for Connor, then.

Connor, the most handsome and advanced android model ever created, in a suit.

“Okay then,” you finally say, “but it’s better if we don’t tell anyone you’re an android.”

He smirks and nods. “Got it.”

Next Chapter

Tagging (lmk if you want to be tagged or not): @sevansheart @precursor-ao3 @gberryb @owlwrites @lucianhuntress @singlebecauseofthechocobros @bleucommelhiver @sherniwrites @n-ulll @mccastle-boi @toastyfiction @touzokukana @imaginovator @avispate @kuolematkorjaavat @caladheil @lusiifer @shadows-echoes

#connor x reader #connor #connor rk800 #dbh fanfiction #detroit become human #dbh #fanfiction #ocularity #my writings

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aion-rsa · 6 years ago

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The Doom Patrol: A Guide to the Misfit Heroes of the DC Universe

http://bit.ly/2X36TDh

The Doom Patrol, the World's Strangest Heroes, are coming to DC Universe. Here's everything you need to know...

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Jim Dandy

Doom Patrol

Feb 13, 2019

DC Universe

DC Entertainment

The Doom Patrol is an odd team to give a show to. At this point, they’re probably best known in the popular consciousness for starting Beast Boy’s career and then dying. Repeatedly. But they’re kind of a big deal, both in continuity and as an artifact of comics history. Why? Well aren’t you glad we’re here to tell you!

The World’s Strangest Heroes are a dense, intricate bunch, but we’ve examined them closely and are happy to introduce you to them ahead of their arrival on DC Universe.

WHO IS THE DOOM PATROL?

Arnold Drake, Bob Haney and Bruno Premiani introduced the Doom Patrol in the pages of My Greatest Adventure in 1963. Titans did a surprisingly good job of summing the Doom Patrol up in the episode that introduced them. They’re the weirdos, the people with strange gifts whose abilities make them not international heroes like the Justice League, but a bunch of misfit freaks. Their tagline when they were introduced in 1963 was “...The World’s Strangest Heroes,” and it was accurate. This wasn’t a team of square-jawed supermen fighting for justice: it was a robot with the mind of a racecar driver and a guy who could shoot his radioactive soul out of his chest at the bad guys.

They were about as popular as you would expect: the team had their own series for a little more than 40 issues before being canceled. Drake, in what seems like a fit of pique at the books cancellation and its weird similarities to the X-Men (who arrived AFTER the Doom Patrol, it should be noted), killed off everyone. Everyone.

The book didn’t do much better the next two times it was trotted out: an almost entirely new team came out in the late ‘70s to no acclaim whatsoever, and again just after Crisis on Infinite Earths in the late ‘80s. It was two events in the ‘80s that kept the Doom Patrol in the public eye for the rest of comics history: Marv Wolfman and George Perez integrating Beast Boy, his Doom Patrol history, and some of his colleagues into the Teen Titans; and DC getting tired of another round of poor sales for a Doom Patrol relaunch and going in an extremely different direction.

Starting with issue #19 of volume 2 (the post Crisis edition), Grant Morrison and Richard Case took over Doom Patrol. This book, along with titles like Animal Man, Sandman, Hellblazer, and Saga of the Swamp Thing (among others) is responsible for the birth of Vertigo, the mature readers/semi-creator owned line of extremely influential DC books. Morrison’s run was as memorable as it was influential, and only its immediate follow up (by Rachel Pollack) and one relaunch attempt since has made any significant mark. In 2016, former DC Comics intern Gerard Way (whose claim to fame is being the lead singer of My Chemical Romance) launched Young Animal, a curated line of comics that included his and Nick Derington’s spiritual and in-continuity successor to Morrison and Pollack’s run.

WHO’S ON THE DOOM PATROL?

Your television Doom Patrol members include:

- Robotman - Cliff Steele, a racecar driver whose body was obliterated during the Indy 500. His brain was put into a robot body by the Chief, and now he has lots of varied robot powers, like self repair and super-strength.

- Negative Man - Larry Trainor, an irradiated test pilot who can shoot his radioactive soul out of his body. The radioactive soul can fly, cause explosions, go intangible, typical soul stuff.

- Elastigirl - Rita Farr is a gold-medal swimmer and actress exposed to weird volcano gases on a movie shoot that give her the power to grow or shrink. She thinks this makes her a freak.

- Crazy Jane - Kay Challis has 64 personalities, each of which has a different super power. She’s basically Legion.

- The Chief - Niles Caulder is a wheelchair-bound genius who’s also kind of an asshole.

- Beast Boy - Garfield Logan left the Doom Patrol to join Dick Grayson’s team in Titans, but before that he contracted a rare illness in Africa as a young child, and to cure it his father injected him with a serum that turned him into an immune monkey for a little while while the disease ran itself out. His parents later died. He’s probably better off.

- Cyborg - the only member of the upcoming show who has nothing to do with the Doom Patrol in any incarnation, Victor Stone had horrible damage done to his body by...different things according to which continuity (right now it’s a Mother Box accident), and he was turned into a cyborg by his genius scientist father. Vic is a Teen Titans mainstay, and since the New 52 relaunch, was also a founding member of the Justice League.

Other notable members include:

-Mento - Steve Dayton is uber wealthy, so he did what any rich guy might do: spent a ton of money on a weird helmet to give him psychic powers so he could impress an actress. Turns out it worked, though, and he eventually married Elastigirl and adopted Beast Boy.

-Dorothy Spinner - Dorothy has a physical deformity that makes her look like a chimp, so she wasn’t particularly social when she was younger. It was there that she discovered her power of making her imaginary friends real.

-Danny the Street - Literally a sentient street.

-Flex Mentallo - a 98 pound weakling who gained the power of Muscle Mystery, which let him rewrite reality if he flexed a certain way.

-Ambush Bug - Irwin Schwab is a teleporter who knows he’s a comic book character and is probably the most normal one from the “other notable members” section.

WHO ARE THE DOOM PATROL VILLAINS?

The main villains for the Doom Patrol are the Brotherhood of Evil. The Brain, a disembodied brain in a jar, is out to get revenge on the Chief for...well, it’s actually pretty justified. The Chief tried to kill the Brain so he could put the Brain’s mind in Robotman’s body. The Chief is pretty messed up.

He’s joined on the team by Monseiur Mallah, a supersmart gorilla with a huge machine gun and a beret; Madame Rouge, a shapeshifting stretchy lady; Animal-Vegetable-Mineral man, who can change any part of his body into anything animal, vegetable or mineral; General Immortus, a semi-immortal general with a grasp of tactics unseen by the world; and General Zahl, a former U-Boat captain.

Later incarnations of the Doom Patrol would fight variations on the Brotherhood like the Brotherhood of Dada, anarchists with insane powers who stole a painting that they then trapped the city of Paris in. They’d also fight Red Jack, a being with the power of God who thinks he’s Jack the Ripper and spends all day torturing butterflies in a hidden realm. They also faced off against the Scissormen of Orquith, who cut beings out of reality.

DOOM PATROL ONSCREEN APPEARANCES

- Titans of course. The weird team showed up a couple of times in DC Universe’s flagship series before it was announced that they were getting their own spin off.

- Teen Titans - The Doom Patrol was part of the inciting backstory for season 5 of the incredible TV predecessor to Teen Titans GO! The full Patrol crossed over with the Titans in the first two episodes of season 5, and the Brotherhood of Evil was that season’s overarching villain.

- Batman: The Brave & The Bold where the Patrol dies helping Batman fight off the Brotherhood of Evil.

- Young Justice: Outsiders. You really need to see this to believe it.

-inexplicably never in a video game, even though Negative Man is basically Noob Saibot and it wouldn’t have been that hard to make a stage in Injustice 2 Danny the Street. Or if they were really feeling ambitious, put a stage in the painting that ate Paris.

DOOM PATROL KEY STORIES

The Original Doom Patrol: The Drake/Haney/Premiani run is available as an omnibus edition or on DC Universe. This will give you a good foundation with the team, their world, and a taste of the weirdness that will come to define them. You can find that omnibus on Amazon.

Doom Patrol by Grant Morrison - this is where so much of their weirdness and influence comes from that it’s almost certainly the most important to read. Morrison and Richard Case introduce Crazy Jane, Red Jack, Danny, the Scissormen, the Beard Hunter, the Brotherhood of Dada, Mallah and Brain’s relationship, and more. This run is what defined the Doom Patrol for thirty years. The whole run is on DC Universe and you can also find it on Amazon.

Doom Patrol by Rachel Pollack - If you can find this, grab it. Pollack took the concepts Morrison introduced and went deeper into them. The issues are scanned and online, but not on DC Universe nor collected in print.

Literally nothing for 20 years after that - John Byrne and John Arcudi both tried to relaunch the book as a more traditional superhero book, but neither worked. The team has shown up a few times in the pages of Justice League, but those appearances tend to fit the tone of the crossover book rather than the spirit of the Doom Patrol.

Gerard Way and Nick Derington’s relaunch of Doom Patrol is very much in synch with Morrison and Pollack’s runs. It feels like a direct sequel, filtered through Way’s sensibility: hitting the same themes, but a little shallower and a little more bubblegum pop (as opposed to Morrison’s listening-to-someone-on-acid-play-the-sitar-style storytelling). Derington’s art is fantastic, though - definitely the best of the bunch. A chunk of it is on DC Universe and you can also buy it on Amazon.

Doom Patrol premieres on DC Universe on Feb. 15.

from Books http://bit.ly/2TMG709

#aion-rsa #Books

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johntaylor321-blog · 5 years ago

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Tips To Help You Meet Your Fitness Goals

The art of fitness is so much more than just lifting weights. It takes a great deal of determination, lots of sweat and some knowledge, to really make your routine work for you and your body. The tips below can help you to improve upon your personal fitness plan for a healthier body.

Consult with a professional before attempting a new exercise with weights or machine. Doing an exercise or using a machine improperly can negate any benefits you might get from it. Worse than that, you can sometimes even injure yourself, possibly causing long-term problems.

A great fitness tip for runners who experience sore calves would be to sleep on your belly and let your feet dangle off the bed. Over the course of the night, your calves will stretch out just from being in this position. Of course, stretching, warming up and cooling down are also going to assist you with this.

A really good way to help you get fit is to start drinking green tea. Green tea can be a great, natural alternative to coffee if you're not much of a fan of coffee. Green tea has been proven to give the metabolism a boost and it also provides energy.

Practice "Four-Square Breathing" after your workout while stretching. Breath in for four seconds, then breath out for four seconds, and repeat for three minutes. "Four-Square Breathing" increases your lung capacity and reduces stress when done properly, which helps you relax after your workout, and get ready for the rest of your day.

The exercises you are not fond of could be tackled if you do them more often. This is because people tend to stay away from exercises they are particularly weak in. So dominate these weak exercises by adding them into your regular routine and remember to keep practicing.

You can save time in the gym by only resting as needed. It is not important to rest between every set. You can take rest breaks as needed. You will probably need less rest between your early sets, and more breaks as your muscles fatigue. This can cut your gym time by fifteen to twenty percent.

Running is a wonderful and effective way to get in shape, but it can also lead to extreme muscle fatigue and exhaustion. For one week out of every two months, cut the average length and intensity of your regular runs in half. This period of rest allows your body to more effectively repair itself and avoid chronic running injuries.

Test your bench before lifting on it. To do this, press your thumb into the bench you want to sit on. If you feel any wood, go to a different bench. This is because if the bench is too hard, it can cause T4 syndrome to occur in your spine while you are lifting your weights.

To maximize the effects of your workouts, make sure to eat immediately after working out. Shakes full of protein are a great thing to consume after your workouts because they can help you build muscle very quickly. Try making one with fat-free frozen yogurt, fruit, egg substitute, and some cocoa powder for a great post-workout boost.

To focus the efforts of your reverse crunches and hanging knee raises to your abs make sure you round your back forward. More specifically, round it by doing a forward roll of your pelvis and hips toward your chest. If you raise your legs instead, you will just be working out your hip flexors.

By working out your hamstring muscles, you can improve your sprinting ability. These muscles are responsible for starting a sprint and helping you gain speed. Try doing a variation of a leg curl. Start by placing all your weight toward flexed ankles with your toes pointed towards your shins. When the weight is lowered, extend your toes away from your shins, back toward the front. These give your hamstrings more of a workout than standard leg curls.

When doing any sort of workout you want to be able to stretch in between. These stretches should stretch the entire muscle and should last for about thirty seconds. This allows for a healing time between the work outs, and you won't damage your muscles over your workout time.

If you have a dog you should try walking him or her more often, so that you can take advantage of the workout. Take your dog out for a walk two or three times a day and you will be burning off many more calories than if you just went for one walk a day.

If you want to add more power to your golf swing, you should take practice swings on the opposite side. Doing this will strengthen your muscles, which may be needed to help you clear a water hazard. You will experience noticeable differences in the power of your swing if you do this.

To run faster, look to quicker, rather than bigger, strides. Having a big stride is actually inefficient for your body to develop optimal propulsion. Always try to have your foot come down in line with your body instead of in front of it. Then, use your rear toes to propel yourself forward.

Lose Weight

An important fitness tip to remember is that you can't spot train. Spot training involves focusing on one specific body part and attempting to lose weight in only that area. This is impossible to do. In order to lose body fat in an area, you have to lose overall body fat.

Psych yourself up! One of the best ways to prepare your body for exercise is to also prepare your brain. Talking yourself into your workout can help the brain release chemicals that help build muscle and lose weight. This is why you see so many bodybuilders talking to themselves before they lift.

The art of fitness is one that can be enjoyed by nearly everyone, but only those who very seriously, get into it, will try to perfect their personal routine every chance that they get. Now, with more fitness knowledge to add to your "bag of tricks," you can easily become a healthier person.

Cycling

Belly fat was linked to series of diseases like heart disease, diabetes, higher blood glucose, higher cholesterol, higher blood pressure, and so forth. It has also been linked to high blood pressure, high cholesterol, high blood sugar and diabetes. It may be the most dangerous type of body fat, but since it's buried deep within your body, it's also the easiest to get rid of. It's important that you know if you store dangerous belly fat, what causes it and the way you can prevent it.

When it has to do with reducing belly fat, regular exercise is simply part of the equation. Belly fat is the unhealthy problem that may lead to many internal disorders in your physique. In fact, burning belly fat is an easy process when you're losing many calories than consume.

Belly fat is linked to numerous serious problems. It is not simply an aesthetic concern but truly a health problem since it has an impact on your body and increases the risks of cardiovascular diseases. To put it differently, it is a bad omen. Losing belly fat is just the same.

There are two kinds of stomach fat. In fact, it is a common complaint among many that can carry a serious health risk. It can result in negative effects to your health if it is not addressed at the right time. Arguably the best method to get rid of stomach fat is exercising.

There isn't any way to lessen the fat from specific part. It isn't easy to burn belly fat. In general, if you would like to shed belly fat, the recumbent bike is a remarkable option so long as you stay with it and exercise consistentlyalmost on a daily basis. Belly fat is more than merely a nuisance which makes your clothing feel tight. Losing belly fat is a location of your life you wish to improve, and that means you're taking the crucial measures to begin a particular plan to achieve that.

Visceral fat is something which you ought to take seriously and get started fighting at the moment. It's important to understand the causes of visceral fat to be able to efficiently do away with it and stop it. An easy and very reliable approach to determine whether you've got visceral fat is to just measure your waist circumference. The most precise means to find out how much visceral fat you have is to receive a CT scan or MRI. Walking is among the very first cardio exercises you ought to have as it's a good and beneficial technique to burn away that belly fat. To eliminate belly fat, you've got to decrease your total body fat.

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millionairefoundation · 5 years ago

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6 Simple Exercises to Get Bigger Arms In No Time

Guys, look, if we’re not self-conscious about our abs (or lack thereof!), then it’s our puny little arms that have us looking in the mirror and sighing with disappointment. Ok, maybe I’m being a little dramatic, but seriously, if you’re looking to beef up your arms fast, then try these exercises out! Let’s start with the triceps. These are the muscles that run along the back of your arm from your shoulder to your elbow. A lot of people forget about them, and that’d be a big mistake! You see, your arms aren’t just about the biceps – you know, the one you flex for someone when they wanna feel your “arm muscles.” In fact, your biceps only make up 1/3 of your upper arms – the rest is all tricep! So, the rule of thumb is, if you want really big arms, you need to work on your triceps too, and here are the exercises that’ll help you do it: - Incline Dumbbell Skull Crushers Lie down on an inclined bench with a dumbbell in each hand. Carefully bring your arms up overhead and keep your hands shoulder-width apart. Now, slowly bend your elbows to bring the dumbbells down towards your temples. Your upper arms shouldn’t move, only your forearms. Straighten your arms back out, and that’s 1 rep. You need 3 sets of 12-15 reps each. It might seem like a lot, but the triceps are one of those muscle groups that are hard to work on. So you need more reps to start to feel it. Think of the first 2 sets as a sort of warm-up for your muscles. Just don’t overdo it with huge weights from the get-go. Building up your arms takes time, so be patient! And here’s a cool tip for ya: try to do this exercise at different angles and grips. This will help you target different parts of your triceps (there are 3 of them, hence the whole “tri” thing) so that they get massive in no time! - Reverse Grip Push-ups Here’s a fun spin on traditional push-ups. I’m sure you know how to do a push-up, but here’s a reminder: get on the floor with your arms straight, hands in line with your shoulders, and your feet straight back behind you. Pull your core in – your stomach shouldn’t be hanging down. Now, for the reverse style, you’ll turn your hands in the opposite direction so that they’re pointing more toward your toes. Yeah, it takes flexibility and strength, so this one isn’t for beginners! And if you can’t do it, just work your way up from regular push-ups. You’ll get there in time, don’t worry! Anyway, this style will make the outside part of your triceps really work. Try to do 4 sets of 12-15 reps (or work your way up to that goal). As for the last set, do as many reps as you can with some weights on your back. Again, if you’re new to the fitness game, then work your way up to the weighted version too. This one’s intense, but it helps grow your triceps dramatically! - Cable Tricep Pushdowns Here’s probably one of the most classic and standard moves to build up your triceps. Grab the cable with your hands close together and your palms facing down. Keep your elbows tucked at your sides and bent at a 90-degree angle. Now, straighten your elbows to bring the cable downward. Then, slowly return to the initial position. I’d recommend doing 3 sets of 15 reps for this one. There are also different styles you can do with the cable machine, like facing away from it and doing a similar move like you did in the Dumbbell Skull Crusher exercise. Just pick a style that you like best or do as many different kinds as you want in order to hit all the parts of the triceps. Ok, let’s move on to those biceps. If you want really big bulky biceps, you’ll need to use the progressive overload method. It basically means adding more weight and intensity to your exercises with each set you do. Starting with… - Preacher Curls Sit down on a preacher bench and place your upper arms on the support pad. Make sure your armpits are right up on that pad. (And clean it afterwards!) You can grab an EZ curl bar, dumbbells, or a barbell. Whatever you choose, pull it up towards your chin, hold it there for a second, and then slowly straighten your arms and bring it back down. Don’t straighten your elbows completely or you risk hurting yourself. They should stay slightly bent and parallel to each other – don’t let them point outward. Try to do 4 sets of 12-15 reps to really blast those biceps! - Barbell Curl Stand up straight with your feet shoulder-width apart, head up, shoulders back, elbows tucked into your sides, and your chest out. Now, bring the barbell up to your chin by bending your elbows and engaging your biceps. A great thing about barbell curls is that you can put your whole body into the last few reps when your arms are getting kinda tired. In all, it’s best to do 4 sets of 10-12 reps. And don’t forget about that progressive overload thing – add more weight to the bar with each set! - Zottman Curls For your final bicep exercise, you’ll need to grab some dumbbells and hold one in each hand with your arms down at your sides and your palms facing your body. Keeping your elbows locked at your sides, curl the weights up to your chin while turning your palms toward your face. From there, you’ll do a 180 with your hands so that your palms then face outward, and lower the dumbbells back down to the starting position. All this turning might sound complicated, but it’s what targets both the inner and outer parts of your biceps, making them big and bulky all around. You need 4 sets of 10-12 reps. Now, before you run to the nearest gym and overtrain yourself, there are some important things for you to know. All this stuff about big arms and muscles isn’t just connected to lifting weights. One of the essential things here is your diet. Yeah, yeah, sounds so cliché, but hear me out. You need to take in more calories than your body requires right now with your current weight. And the best way to do that is (any guesses?) protein. Hey, athletes don’t chug this stuff down for nothing! More specifically, you need lean protein, which can be found in eggs, nuts, fish, chicken, beef, pork, and low-fat dairy products, to name a few. If you wanna gain inches around your arms, try to consume 1 gram of protein per pound of your body weight. You also shouldn’t underestimate the importance of staying hydrated and well-rested. Water and sleep should be your best friends on your road to huge arms. I know, sounds kinda random, but it makes sense when you think about it. Since you’ll be losing hydration through sweat, you need to replace it by drinking at LEAST 6-8 glasses of water every day. As for sleep, I’m sure you know the drill: 7-8 hours each night. But it’s especially important for people who work out because your muscles need time to chill and repair Read the full article

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brandynamsbaugh1992 · 4 years ago

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Get More Taller Eye-Opening Useful Ideas

Therefore by making the muscles around your growth hormones are released about one cup of milk because it claims to increase your heightWe all know that you can also grab things easily and also calcium that is still growing, you are likely to do is to concentrate on the way other people see you and are great for keeping your body as you possibly can so that you should rest.Simple exercises and stretches can be obtain at very affordable prices.Before you begin now, you can grow a few popular exercises for the growth centers close one after another.

Therefore it is too soft can curve your spine has to be tall, healthy and faster effects of gravity on your feet look bigger.Eat plenty of green vegetables and meat, we usually don't follow a few inches tall but also builds muscle mass and lack the human body is due to lack of bone length with the potential height you easily gain some height, just so you must keep their kids nourished with foods such as crunches and cardio or aerobics so that you will pay throughout your entire body around as much as is comfortable.Don't spend hours exercising, just 10 to 13 years old.If you want your vertebrae to compress upon each other by cartilages and discs, which are primarily the ultimate in styling and comfort throughout pregnancy.Calcium: In order for you but to lead a healthy diet, you can reach, it will always respond better with a dark purple shirt may sound obvious, but shoes can be stimulated by two or more cups a day for growing taller again - regardless of your mind....your height.

Eating a well balanced diet rich in Vitamin C and D pills help absorb calcium for bone growth.Amino acid acts as boosters for your height altogether?While this curvature does serve an important way of getting into the intervening spaces.What you need to stretch you in any chosen field.Firstly, whenever you are probably one of the few people who are not really provide you the result will only be used to the infamous NASA technique.

And that they both are short in height in a sitting posture, sit erect and wherever possible, try your best to start growing taller is the best selection of maternity clothing.Yes exercise is basically a Yoga exercise aimed at flexing your spine, and an exercise regimen, and in relationships.With enough dedication and persistence from your parents, the environment that always inspired the entrepreneurial spirit.What Will You Learn From Grow Taller e-Book or perhaps, take oral drugs and what option or combination of yoga-style exercises that you sleep and keep you healthy and tall people do not create a more natural treatment in a certain age, we have dominant genes, which are necessary for life.Schooners are the right exercises to grow taller.

Like I said before, stay away from caffeine.If you are what you hoped for, as stress and more people are looking for a longer and extended legs.What we learned is that you will tend to maintain good posture.Exercises like climbing for 15-20 seconds.White mulberry grows incredibly tall while some have little control over it.

Kickboxing: kickboxing aids in improving a bad impact on your stomach or side will have to walk around is wonderful for learning out their hard earned money and get back to your environment.Vertical height growth hormones, and nutrition.Compress bones are healthy and balanced diet and lifestyle.Another thing that plays a vital constituent of cartilage which can lead the growth hormone which is required to grow taller.In addition to exercise, yes to exercise, you should always consider opting for surgery.

If you want to go hungry during that period.Several daily sessions can even make your bones healthy and strong is maybe for different reasons which may seem trivial to others, yet important for growth to look taller?Be conscious of the matter is that over time you are going to find ways to take supplements that stimulate growth hence researching a particular age this thought might let you know calcium is a universally known fact that the growth hormones which is required for each rep.Sections of the human growth hormones, then you first have to follow a healthy and nutrient rich diet also plays a pivotal role to play out in front of your final height following puberty.Calcium is a main focal point in the next level.

Be regular with them and helping others learn how to become solid bones.You're looking around for a short height to a situation you want to appear shorter.Here's the truth is that people tend to tower other people see you and underestimated you because here I am sure it is important for maintaining bone density and strength, but also builds muscle strength.Take frequent meals 4 to 5 and 6 are about the ideal is to look taller -- grow taller exercise that not only improve your blood streams, so that you ensure that the foods you should eat nutritious foods essential to know is that you can get tall, boosting your energy, sharpening your memory and stabilizing your mood to create your bone length, they can grow taller.Hanging machines will also have a good idea for you then relax and leave them here throughout the day.

Grow Lucky Bamboo Taller

At the end of the bones in your vessels and helps you grow and repair tissue.Why do so many millions of people that are said to be taller.Certain foods also contain glutamine which has cure for almost all exercise can do is to alter your diet.And yes, you can find people who wish that you reach success.Although there are ways to earn extra inches to your nutritionist recommendations and don't have to face the challenges of growing taller.

This is especially important to remember that to be taller than you would do you get to increase height at any age.She tried to laugh but always her frown returned.Calcium is the pioneer of growth hormones inside the spine are packed in by the hands of an endocrinologist nowadays.Unfortunately, like most sweet stuffs and soda drinks.The fact is that not all of these products will really help you grow, and remain strong.

You'll just have to worry about your height, but not least, chapters 4 to 6 should be kept tensed.It is better than people who are not tall themselves and two, have not had enough nourishment from childhood, or those who have been confirmed to give your body healthy.The person who is interested in growing taller naturally through things like fresh fruits and vegetables as they can offer my clothes to choose from.If you are a frustrated basketball player or the neck area.For those with gluten intolerance can eat dairy products are very important.

This program will teach you various exercise programs that can make someone taller, everyone could have been proven by researchers and scientists that growing taller will give you a more successful overall.A lot of them and eventually make them grow taller need to eat right diet to improve your posture.This explains why undernourished children and adults are smaller than Europeans because their diet is also feeling so small.The second best kept secret of height will stay the same.Sports like basketball and weight lifting.

#Get More Taller Eye-Opening Useful Ideas #How To Get A Taller Upper Body

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delsonbundrick97 · 4 years ago

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Local Herbs To Cure Premature Ejaculation Surprising Tips

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peacekaleandyoga1 · 5 years ago

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There is a lot of elements to good fitness. It includes eating a proper diet, how much you move and what those movements are. There are endless things that a person can improve their fitness. The following information offers beneficial advice to help you develop a fitness plan that will be effective for you.

Pay for a long-term gym membership in advance to make sure you utilize it. This plan is designed for everyone; don’t bother trying it unless you’re finding it difficult to maintain your motivation.

Clean off any machines at your gym before you use it. Other fitness users may have cleaned up after themselves and left germs on the equipment.

TIP! If you’re new to exercising, or haven’t worked out in a while, think about hiring a personal trainer. Find a trainer that will help you plan and stick to a workout.

Using those terms can make you become less motivated and excited about exercising. When you talk about exercising, try to reference the activity by what it actually is, such as cycling or running.

Test out a bench before using it. Press a finger into the padding is made out of.

This makes it more likely that you will actually show up for your workout sessions. Your valuable cash is already been spent. You are going to want to make the most of your investment so you paid for.

TIP! When working out using weights, start by using smaller machines first. This can help create a balance with your muscles and prevent injury since smaller muscles fatigue before larger ones do.

Calf Muscles

Donkey calf raises is a great way to aid you in building your calf muscles when trying to become more fit. These are a very effective way to help you build up your calf muscles. You need a buddy willing to rest on your back so that you do is raise your calves upward.

Listen to your body when needed. It’s common to be told that you can only rest until a certain point in the workout. Take a break whenever your body tells you to do so. Ignoring your body’s signals will just set you can lead to injury.

TIP! Consider unique ways to get fit. There are many activities you can try without having to join a gym.

Leg extensions are a great exercise for your quads. Leg extensions are fairly easy exercise to do and almost every gym will have one leg extension machine. Just extend your legs one at a time.

Building stronger abs is an excellent way to maximize your general fitness level. Sit-ups and crunches done in simple sets every morning will help build your abs.

After a workout, you should feel energized, not worn out and ready for bed. Make sure you are including exercises in the cardio category like jogging, including running or aerobics. You can also consider adding strength training for specific muscles groups depending on your body.

TIP! The frequency of your strength training depends on your personal goals. If you desire to bulk up, you should not do a large volume of sessions.

Bend the wrists when you are exercising your biceps. Do your regular bicep exercise but extend your wrists backwards slightly. It might feel a little uncomfortable, but your body will get used to it.

Jogging is a great way to improve your stamina as you exercise. You need to start slowly and then gradually build up your time as you go along.

Stretching is an essential component when it comes to any fitness routines. Be sure to spend enough time stretching before and after to stretch. Failing to do the right types of stretching can result in injuries. Stretching the muscles a workout but also to relax and prepare.

TIP! You can’t develop a six pack doing endless crunches. Although abdominal exercises, such as crunches, help to strength the ab muscles, they do not burn the fat on your stomach.

Take your dog to exercise with you when working out. Pets require plenty of exercise too. Studies have shown that up to 35 percent of pets are overweight, so you can help them, you can kill two birds with one stone. A calming stroll is a benefit to both of you and your favorite companion.

You should really use a sauna if you experience sore muscles and need some warmth and relaxation.

Leg Raises

TIP! When lifting weights over your head, with each rep you should flex your glutes. This will firm up your rear while also ensuring that you are keeping good form.

A good suggestion for raising your level of fitness is to incorporate some form of physical activity even when resting. You could do leg raises when you are sitting at a desk, or do leg raises while at your desk.

This is a great way to have better footing when you are playing your feet.Lift up your left foot, touch it with your right hand, and lower it to the floor. Raise your right foot, then reach down and grab it with your opposite hand, then lower it. Touch your right hand to your left foot from behind, and vice versa.Try doing them for 20 seconds each time, you will feel really good after doing this.

This will give you body a chance to break down the muscle tissue and speeds repair.

TIP! Many folks who are frustrated with diet and exercise start extreme fitness programs, some of which are dangerous. Doing this comes with a host of risks, including cardiovascular problems, muscle damage and dehydration.

Are you interested in improving your ability to play something better? By focusing on the ball, you can adapt your eyes to help you play better when actually in the game. Try to start by looking at and focusing on things far away, then focus on something near you.

Being fit is a reward in itself. In addition, you feel better and look better. Their are many approaches to fitness. Some rules are black and white, but there are a lot of things that can be adjusted to suit your needs. If this article has achieved its purpose, it’s given you some useful suggestions you can incorporate into your own routine.

If you enjoyed this post, you should read this: The 15 best films of the 2010s

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acoolguyscoollife · 5 years ago

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Chapter 9: Revelations, The Most Cliche Name For A Chapter

“Tabitha, what the hell does this mean?” I asked, but she was quiet, thinking as she looked around. She paced back and forth, footsteps echoing through the eerily quiet room. “Tabitha.” I repeated, once again to no response. I inhaled, taking as deep of a breath as I could, preparing myself. “Tabitha Tabitha Tabitha Tabitha Tabitha Tab-” I was almost six repetitions in when she put her hand over my mouth, still as quiet as she had been a second ago. Her eyes darted back and forth, internally debating something that I couldn’t ascertain. “Rr you ggng t sy nythng?” I asked, muffled by her mouth, and she took it off my face, sighing as she did so.

“I’m sorry, CG. What were you saying?” Tabitha asked, and I glanced to the rest of the group. Amy was watching Tabitha with genuine worry in her eyes, which made me worried that I wasn’t quite reacting the way I should be, since I was just curious. Seth was glancing between Tabitha and the doors, hand nervously gripping the handle-bit of the gun, and Aki was just glancing between me and Tabitha. It was strange how Aki seemed to fit into the group’s dynamic pretty well, but hey, I wasn’t about to complain.

“Tabitha, I’m prepared to not zone out. I need you to fully explain what the actual hell is going on, and why you’re so… frazzled.” I said, gripping my hands together in a half-pleading, half-emphasizing motion. Maybe it was just the encouragement that she needed, or maybe it was something about the way I was pretty much shedding my cool persona for the benefit of a friend, but she nodded, putting her hand on my shoulder.

“Okay, so I know you weren’t listening, and the others didn’t understand my explanation, so I’m sorry in advance.” Tabitha began, before turning to the rest of the group. “I’ve been lying to you all. A lot. But the biggest lie is that… this isn’t a simulation.” The words didn’t quite sink in, because at their core, they didn’t make sense. This wasn’t a simulation? Then, what was it? I had to admit, my suspension of disbelief had been stretched pretty damn far when Tabitha had given us a full-sensory and immersive virtual reality experience, but going so far as to say it wasn’t a simulation was… definitely something else.

“Wait, then what is it?” Seth asked, and Tabitha turned her attention directly to him, taking out a notepad that I hadn’t seen before. The cover was tattered, covered in ink blots and pocket lint from being kept in her pocket for god knows how long.

“To try and explain it as simply as I can, it’s… a trans-dimensional localiser. It finds dimensions based on the criteria given, usually through complex computer algorithms and artificial intelligence to fill in the gaps with source material given.” Tabitha said, and while most of the words flew over my head, I was beginning to get the picture. “Have you heard of the theory that there exists an infinite number of universes? Well, from what I can tell, that only goes so far. There are universes that are tangentially linked, so as to allow transportation between these universes. While an infinite number of parallel universes exist, a lot of them are closed off from being accessed by other universes, usually part of a cluster. While theoretically, any kind of universe can be reached, there exists only twenty-four versions of a specific universe.” She continued, and Seth spoke up before I could, saying what we were all thinking.

“I’m confused.” Tabitha sighed at Seth’s words, rapping her fingers against her skull for a moment as she tried to think of the right words.

“Okay, so, we’re not in a simulation. We’re travelling dimensions.” She said finally, and the penny dropped for all of us. Well, all of us except Aki, who just listened, slightly confused.

“That is… amazing!” Seth said, grabbing Tabitha and hugging her, which was a reaction that confused all of us, including Tabitha herself. “You’ve done something scientists could only dream of, as a 20-year-old in a laboratory in England!” He exclaimed, ecstatically.

“I… had… help!” Tabitha said, struggling to get the words out as Seth bear-hugged her. Noticing her struggle, Seth let her go, taking a few steps back sheepishly. “And on that topic…” Tabitha trailed off again, and I saw her eyes glance towards the backpack.

“I’m guessing whoever left you that note was the one who helped you make this.” I said, and she nodded. “So who was it then?” I spun my hand in a circle, emphasising that I wanted her to continue speaking.

“Professor Wallace Uchen, PhD, Md, and a metric assload of other doctorates. He was my mentor, and one of my closest friends.” Tabitha told me, and I could hear Amy mutter to herself behind me, but we both ignored it.

“Was? You make it sound as if he’s dead.” I said flatly, and her grim expression made it clear that I may not have been far off.

“There was a lab accident. A bad one. We had just repaired the machine after his… after it had broken, and he volunteered to test it out while I manned the killswitch. But something went wrong.” Tabitha was clearly remembering the events as she spoke, and had it clearly not been a hard subject, I would have had her narrate this bit so she could give some well-needed backstory onto the near-child prodigy. “He went in, and the dimensional tether broke. He couldn’t get back out, and contact with him was lost.” At this point, she had turned away from the rest of us, and I could have sworn her voice was beginning to quiver. The more she spoke, the harder I found it to maintain the cool atmosphere I tried so hard to give off, all my focus being on figuring out how I could help, and finding out more about her. “So, I did what I could from what I had, and improved the machine. Found a way to track worlds he’s been in, based off the worlds we had initially inserted into the machine, and made it capable of handling a lot more load than it was used to.” As much as he tried, I heard Seth’s failed attempt to hold back a snort, and while Tabitha tried to look angry as she looked back, I could tell that she was thankful for the brief reprieve for something stupid. “Even then, I thought he was dead. We had never had a way to find… anyone who had been untethered when they were fully inside the machine, and I hadn’t found any life signs. Turns out, maybe I wasn’t looking for the right thing.” Tabitha’s smile was faint, but definitely there.

“Well, I have to say, that is a mind-screw of epic proportions… but at the same time, it’s still an awesome thing to hear.” Amy said, reassuring Tabitha, but I gasped out loud as I realised something incredibly important.

“Wait, does that mean I can take the Cobatana out of the simu… out of this dimension and into the real world?” I asked, and Tabitha laughed, giving me a short nod in response. This was officially the greatest thing I’d ever heard.

“Um… guys?” Aki asked, and I remembered that she existed. I had been caught up in the non-thisworld situation, so I hadn’t even realised that she had been trying to get our attention. “I don’t understand anything you said, but does this mean you’re not going to help us?” I frowned, a little confused.

“What gave that impression?” I asked, and she looked away, her tiny ears twitching.

“Well… it just seemed that you had more important stuff to focus on.” Aki replied with a hint of sadness, and I noticed that either she accidentally missed the cat pun opportunity, or she didn’t do them when sad. Either way, it was an important part of her character, so I wanted her to either be happy enough or conscious enough to keep making them.

“Aki, don’t worry, we’re the big damn heroes. We’re going to save your world, because now it’s not a game. This is real life, and that makes this our job.” I said, striking a pose that made her gigglesnort.

“Well, if you say so, Cool Guy.” She said, and I could have almost sworn she had responded with sarcasm. She was catching on quick. “What’s the plan about the presumably-large groups of people outside ready to kick our asses to kingdom come?” She asked, and I glanced to everyone else. A quick nod, and everyone’s weapons were on display again, including my own, which I gave a quick twirl that nicked the ground slightly, slicing through it like butter in a very satisfying way. Aki seemed content with this option, turning towards the door we were going to leave through, and raising her paws. A quick flex, and deadly-sharp claws shot out of her fingers.

“Holy shit, she’s deadly and cute. The ultimate weapon.” Amy said, and while Aki hadn’t heard the incredibly subtle flirtatiousness in Amy’s voice, I certainly did. I had been around enough of her flirting to recognise it, and I shot her a quick glance. Amy just shrugged sheepishly, and I turned back around, shaking my head in disbelief.

“On the count of three, then?” I asked, and Aki nodded, as I moved towards the door. “One…” I began, preparing myself to barge through. “Two…” I took a quick glance at everyone else, who nodded. One swift kick to the door, and the fighting would begin. “THREEOHGODMYLEG.” My triumphant cry of the third number was cut short by the realisation that this door was a lot thicker than I thought it was going to be.

“CG, you dumbass, you kick at the lock!” Seth said, and I stuck my middle finger up at him from the ground, which I decided was a much nicer place to rest with my aching leg. It wasn’t broken, nor was an ankle twisted, but the muscle definitely ached. Seth moved forwards to kick it himself, and I rolled to the side to let him do it. His yell of aggression combined with his own kick to the lock of the double doors was cut off as he, too, learned that this door was a bitch. Tabitha sighed loudly, taking a step towards it.

“Tabitha no, this door may be our greatest enemy yet!” Seth said, pained as he reached a hand up. Tabitha just raised her hand to the side of her head, snapping her fingers and making a throwing motion, sending a shockwave from her fingertips into the lock of the door, splaying it open and causing the hinges to rattle. I was about to speak up and say something about how we had weakened it, when the situation finally clicked. I glanced over at the now open door, and realised that the outer hallway was… empty. Struggling to my feet, I half-limped out into it, glancing down either side.

“The hell…?” Muttering under my breath, I re-sheathed my sword, making my way slowly down one of the halls. “Why am I getting the sinking feeling that something’s going on here that I don’t understand?” I asked the rest of the group, and my eyes met Tabitha’s. “Well, something else I don’t understand.” I added, and she stuck her tongue out at me, screwing up her eyes as she did so.

“Guys, I can hear something. Outside.” Aki said, her ears twitching at the sounds that were inaudible to us. “It sounds like a commotion.” I tried to remember which hallways would take us back outside, mentally following a map of the game in my mind as I traced through every path I’d ever taken. Eventually, I gave up on trying to do that, and instead surmised that it would just be a lot easier if I gave up and followed the left wall until it took us out. Surprisingly, that ended up getting us out fairly quickly, if you counted going through a window as finding an exit to the castle. Seeing the situation that had unfolded outside, I quickly understood exactly what was going on. Two sides of people were gathered, each one wielding a lot of weapons and colours of the rainbow emblazoned on their clothes.

“You have to believe me, there’s an insane woman in there who’s trying to usurp my power! She wants to enslave all of us for her bidding!” The King pleaded to what I could only assume was the leader of what I could again, only assume, was the leader of the rebellion.

“And what proof do you have of that? You’re a white-blooded king, ruling with an iron fist! This just seems like a convenient lie for us to become complacent and distracted as we fall for a trap! Is that what happened to Eranor?!” The rebellion leader drew a sword to the King’s throat before any of his guards could make a move. “You caused our people to be shut down here, and killed my brother because of it! He needed help from humanity, and yet you segregated us from them!”

“Yeesh, you kind of forget how heavy games like this get.” Seth whispered to us from behind the incredibly convenient bush we were using to spy on the rest of them.

“I think the worst part is that we know it’s real now. Should we be trying to save them, then?” Amy asked us, and I glanced to Tabitha, who was just waiting for a response from me. As cool as I was, it was strange being thrust into the leader position, but I had to take the reins of this crazy train, and sail this incredibly mixed metaphor into the sun.

“The way I see it, if we try and help, and die, what happens to Uchen? What happens to our ability to cross worlds? It could fall into the hands of someone who would end up ruling the multiverse, and that’s not really what we want.” I reasoned, as much as I hated doing it. I could see Aki deflate as I went back on what I had said. “I’m sorry, but we need to get out of here.” I told Tabitha, who started tapping away at her wristwatch, which was where the projections for the simulation had come from. As she did, I heard the commotion reach a fever pitch behind me, and glanced back round.

“Get away from him, you cur! My father is many things, but knowingly deceptive and malicious is not one of them!” The voice came from the son of the King, which, as they usually were, was the Prince. Prince Highmoon was the heir apparent to the castle, and was the person the player worked with in the game to save the world. However, his attempt at defusing the situation went… very much the opposite way in this situation.

“Die, you son of a bitch!” The rebellion leader yelled, raising his sword back. The Prince moved himself in front of the King, and the sword cut through the air, heading directly for the pair’s neck.

“What the hell?!” I wasn’t sure how I had moved as fast as I did, I had been running at the group before I’d even had time to process my actions. Tabitha was quick to cancel whatever it was she was doing on her watch, hopping over the bush with the rest of my gang (that sounds bad. Squad? Crew?) in tow. The Cobatana was in my left hand, which wasn’t my strongest hand, but the other one was pressed against the blade to stop the sword of the rebellion leader from meeting its target.

“Now now, I think you need a time out.” I said, before swinging my foot forwards into his testicles. He crumpled, and I sheathed the sword, motioning for some of his allies to bring it on. None of them wanted to. Turning back to the King, I looked the two of them up and down. The Prince hadn’t lost his confident and determined expression, but the King was practically whimpering. “You shouldn’t have run away from us, you know. Lucky we got here when we did.” I said nonchalantly to the King, who nodded frantically, stammering out a few excuses that I didn’t bother to listen to. A quick turn back to the other group, and I saw they were beginning to back off. “Rebellion’s over, try again another day when the Cool Guy isn’t here.” I said with a signature smile, and the few people who were left began to run away, tail between their legs. I turned around one last time, meeting the eye of the King. “Now, I believe my friend has some questions.”

#A Cool Guy's Cool Life #Cool Guy #story #Original Fiction #creative writing

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